


No More Bad Stories

by queerstang (rosethomass)



Series: Escort Verse [2]
Category: Fullmetal Alchemist
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Escort Service, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-08-18
Updated: 2014-11-03
Packaged: 2018-02-13 18:10:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 50,561
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2160174
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rosethomass/pseuds/queerstang
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Doing what he does, Ed has his share of bad stories. Sometimes they come back to haunt him. If he has anything to say about it, Roy Mustang won't be one of them.</p><p>Sequel to Same Time Next Week.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> [screeching] here's the sequel. i'm going to try my hardest to update every monday as usual, but due to having started classes and this damn fic taking a life of its own and being longer than i expected, i don't know how consistent that's going to be. if i have to post later than scheduled, i will say so on my writing blog. i will also continue to complain about writing on my writing blog, so you always have that to look forward to if you want.
> 
> also, just thank you to everyone who has been with me during the posting of stnw, and everyone who has supported me between finishing that fic and the posting of this one- you guys are why i keep going with this fic. i only ever attempted to post a wip and update regularly once and that was a complete disaster, so i'm actually really proud of myself for succeeding with stnw. and i hope i can do it again with this fic. but i couldn't have done it without everyone being super supportive and nice to me i love you guys you're all great :3
> 
> there was something else i wanted to say here but i can't remember it right now so if i think of it i'll let you know.
> 
> enjoy :3
> 
>  **edit:** thank you to rest_in_beatz for catching my dumbass international miscommunication. i said euros instead of pounds because i am dumb. fixed now!

Edward was in a very bad mood, which wasn’t anything out of the ordinary. He wasn’t a cheerful person by nature, not like Al. He tended to be more irritable and easily set off, and it didn’t help when life kept testing his very short—er, _quick_ temper.

On top of and because of Ling being an over-protective nuisance, Ed had to deal with two mountains dressed as men shadowing his every move, following him wherever he went, sticking to his sides like glue. It wasn’t so bad at first, but then they had realized that they didn’t like Ed as much as Ed didn’t like them and then it had just gotten very unpleasant from there. At least they alternated days so Ed only had to deal with one of them at a time.

Al was graduating in a week and that was wreaking havoc on Ed’s emotional state like nothing else. Despite their very small age gap, Ed had always doted on his younger brother, and when their mother had died, Ed had taken on the role of parental figure. Really, they had raised each other, but when Ed thought about his baby brother _graduating college_ and _growing up_ and _moving on_ , he got a little misty-eyed. And when he got overly emotional, he liked to compensate by acting angry instead, so that didn’t help improve his mood.

Dealing with the preparations to move from the West Coast across the pond to friggin’ _London_ was just icing on the cake. Ed was a fan of math, but when it came to calculating their budget and how many dollars they had vs. how many pounds they needed was the opposite of fun for him. Finding a decent apartment for the two of them was proving to be a trying task indeed. And Ed had confidence in Ling’s promises—he’s never let Ed down before—but there was still no word on a job opportunity for him in England.

Basically, Ed’s nerves were on edge and had been for a while. His little break-up with Roy last week hadn’t helped anyone. Especially Al’s poor tear-stained shirt. The damage to it had been irreparable. Ed had promised, through a stuffy nose, to buy him a new one. Al had told him to shut up and made him some iced coffee with chocolate, because Al was an actual angel.

When Ed was feeling like this before, the shiny walls of the hotel elevator and the framed number 5 on the side had been a comfort to him. The light yellow wallpaper and dark red carpet were blessings, soothing his frayed nerves and making his chest swell with hopeful anticipation as he walked down the hallway to the last room at the end. But now all they did was make him feel worse and more on edge.

“Why are we here, again?” Heinkell asked grouchily and Ed took a deep breath as they made their way down the hall. “I thought you weren’t taking any more clients.”

“I’m not,” Ed answered. “Could you just…could you just wait by the elevator or something? It’ll only be a minute.” He was only here to tell Roy to back off. He wasn’t even going to step inside the room. He would just stand his ground and remind Roy that it was over and nothing he could say would change his mind. He didn’t need Heinkell overhearing that.

Heinkell snorted derisively. “Yeah, right. Nice try, kid. I ain’t leaving your side.”

“I’m a lucky guy,” Ed grumbled petulantly, stopping before the room marked 520. For the past months, Roy had always been waiting on the other side of that door with open arms and a welcoming mouth and he’d been warm and comforting and Ed had let the lines between client and lover blur until he couldn’t see them anymore.

Now Roy was waiting for him on the other side again and Ed really didn’t want to be here. Staying strong to his resolution was easy when Roy wasn’t around. But Ed was weak, and just the thought of seeing his stupidly gorgeous face was wearing at that usually iron-strong stubbornness of his.

“You gonna knock or you just gonna stare at it?” Heinkell said and Ed growled.

“I’m gonna make Ling get you euthanized is what I’m gonna fuckin’ do.” Taking a deep breath, Ed raised a hand and knocked on the door before shoving both hands in his coat pockets, resolved to _keep them there_ until it was over and he was a very safe and large distance from Roy and nowhere near touching range.

Roy was gorgeous as hell, just as always, in his work clothes sans suit jacket, and his smile was absolutely radiant as he took in Ed’s forced irritated face.

“Ed,” he breathed, and just his name in that voice made Ed’s knees tremble with the crumbling of his willpower. “I’m so glad you came, I was afraid you wouldn’t.”

Ed shouldn’t have come. He had argued against it with himself for days, but ultimately he convinced himself that he was going just to tell Roy to give up, when he knew he just wanted to see the bastard’s face one more time.

“I just came to tell you to fuck off, Roy,” he said, inflicting as much heat as he could into the words. It wasn’t very effective if he couldn’t look Roy in the eye as he said it, though, so he forced himself to meet the man’s gaze and swallowed thickly at the soft look Roy was giving him. “You called the agency to set up an appointment, you tracked Rose down to interrogate her about me—”

“I _questioned_ her. _Politely._ ”

 “Al has seen you in that coffee shop three separate times! You need to _stop_.”

“Did you ever think that I just happen to like the coffee from that shop?” There was that smooth-ass fucking smirk of his and Ed really wanted to punch him.

“Roy. C’mon. You look pathetic.” Ed shifted on his feet because maybe if he moved around a bit and dispersed the weight of his body differently it would distract him from the overwhelming urge to kiss Roy breathless. “Just let it go.”

“I will.” Roy rested his weight against the door, holding it open in invitation, and Ed wanted to run in the opposite direction. “As soon as you hear what I have to say, and if you tell me after that that you still want to end this, I will gladly move on.”

Ed pursed his lips. He took a step backwards. He was feeling very tempted to step inside and listen to whatever Roy wanted to tell him, even if it was just to hear Roy speak to him one last time.

Roy noticed Ed’s retreat and reached out to grip Ed’s elbow and give him an imploring look. “Ed, please…”

There was suddenly a beefy arm between him and Roy, breaking Roy’s hold on him and pushing Ed backwards, making him stumble slightly.

“Hands off, pal,” Heinkell said in a very threatening tone, but Roy looked more irritated than intimidated, and Ed’s annoyance just flared up. His fuse had been even shorter— _dammit_ —than usual lately and Heinkell getting involved in _this_ of all things was just the last straw. Especially when the giant bastard had actually _put his_ _hands_ on Roy. As if Roy were a _threat_. What a fucking joke.

“Leave him alone, Mufasa,” he snapped, shoving at Heinkell to make him move away from Roy. “He wasn’t fucking hurting me.”

Heinkell glared down at him. “I’m just doing my job, kid.”

“Your job is to stop people who wanna kill me,” Ed shot back at him. “You don’t get to choose who touches me and who doesn’t.”

There was no way he could do this with Heinkell looking over their shoulders. He growled and spun around to shove at Roy’s chest, pushing him inside the room and barking at Heinkell, “Just wait outside!” before practically slamming the door in his face.

“Can’t fucking stand them,” Ed muttered under his breath. “Don’t fuckin’ _need_ them.” He groaned and turned around to face Roy, who was just staring at him with a quirked eyebrow. Ed scoffed and moved around him to throw himself down on the armchair. “Make it fast, Mustang. I have places to be.” He really didn’t. He just didn’t want to be here.

“All right then.” Roy cleared his throat as he sat himself down on the couch. Ed had wanted to sprawl out on it—he’d always loved taking up as much space as he could on a big couch—but he knew that if he did, Roy would sit on it with him and the more space between him and Roy, the better. As it was, Roy sat himself on the very edge, leaning as much as he could towards Ed without actually falling off the couch, so Ed angled himself in the opposite direction.

“I guess I should start off by telling you that I spoke to Julia about you and I,” Roy said, hands clasped on his knees, and Ed just nodded noncommittally. “As it turns out, Julia is pregnant and—”

The rest of Roy’s words were drowned out by a roaring in Ed’s ears, his blood rushing from his head down to his feet or his hands or—Ed wasn’t sure where the blood went, he just knew it wasn’t in his brain. He shouldn’t be angry, he shouldn’t be jealous or hurt, he shouldn’t feel like someone had shoved a knife into his stomach and twisted it a whole three hundred and sixty degrees. It shouldn’t hurt so fucking much that Roy— _his_ Roy, Roy, _my_ Roy, my bastard, _my Roy_ —was having a child with his wife, as he should.

When Ed’s brain kicked back into gear, Roy had stopped talking and was looking at him in concern. His mouth moved on auto-pilot, and auto-pilot for Ed usually drove straight to sarcasm. “That’s great, why are you telling me this? You inviting me to the baptism or something?”

Roy’s brows drew together. “Ed, did you even hear anything of what I just said?”

“Not really,” Ed admitted. “My brain kind of shut down after ‘pregnant’. But I really don’t see what could come after that that’s so important.”

Roy laughed, and it was such a warm, amused, loving laugh that Ed’s cheeks prickled with heat. “If you had been paying attention, you would have heard the part where the child isn’t mine and you would know what is so important.”

Ed frowned at him. “Wait…so your wife has been screwing someone else behind your back too?”

Roy shrugged one shoulder. “Apparently.”

The smile on Ed’s face was slow and smug. “And you had no idea?”

“No,” Roy said slowly, looking warily at Ed’s grin.

“But you told me that Julia already knew about us, she just didn’t care.” Ed barked a laugh. “So what you’re saying is that your wife knew all about _your_ affair and she’s been having one too all along and you didn’t have a _clue_?”

Roy’s face fell flat. “Yes, that’s what I’m saying.”

Ed clutched at his stomach from how hard he laughed.

“I think I prefer your earlier animosity to your open mocking,” Roy said, but he was smiling, leaning his head on his elbow braced on the couch arm as he watched Ed dry the tears in the corners of his eyes.

Once the giggles had died down, Ed leaned back into the armchair and assessed Roy. “So, I guess the divorce is unavoidable now. Is that what you wanted to tell me? That now you and I can be together or something?” Ed shook his head. “It’s not that easy, Roy…”

“I know it’s not, and if you think that I’m only doing this because Julia’s pregnancy gives me a convenient way out, then you’re mistaken. I didn’t even know she was pregnant until after I asked her for a divorce.”

Ed’s eyebrows shot up into his bangs. “Really?”

“I asked her for a divorce because I was prepared to fight for you.” Roy’s eyes were burning now, his voice serious andopen. Ed knew that Roy was a man who hid behind layers and masks, who shrouded his true intentions and manipulated situations to get what he wanted. But there was something very honest and vulnerable in his voice and his eyes now, something raw and real, and it made Ed’s breath catch. “I am still willing to fight for you, Ed. You have to believe that. I’ve given it a lot of thought and I’ve gone over every option, and I am absolutely determined to make a life where you and I can be together without having to hide.”

Ed’s throat had gone dry. “Roy, I—”

“Just listen to me, please.” He reached over and took Ed’s hands between his. “It’s not going to be easy. You’ll be put into the public eye, and I know that’s going to make you uncomfortable, and asking you to leave your brother to live in London by himself is easily one of the most selfish things I’ve ever done, but I have to give you the option. You have to know that there is a real and legitimate life that I want to give you here. Ultimately, it’s your choice. You can go with Al to London and I will not hold it against you. But I love you more than I’ve ever loved anyone, and I want to be with you, and I will never forgive myself if I don’t at least try to keep you here with me.”

Ed could feel his palm in Roy’s hand starting to sweat so he pulled his hand back and scratched his head with it, averting his eyes and chewing on his lip. It would be a monumental lie if he said he wasn’t tempted to give this a chance. Ed had had many good people in his life to support and help him, but ultimately he’d worked hard for everything he had by himself. No one except Al had ever offered him their heart and their life like this.

“It’s a lot,” Ed whispered to himself. It was big, too big for him to fully understand everything it would entail. He would go from underground to tabloid magazines overnight, he wouldn’t be able to keep being an escort even if he stayed, and—worst of all—it would be the first time since he was in diapers that he would be living more than one hallway’s distance from Al. Even when Al had been nothing but a swollen belly, Ed had clung to his mother and future brother’s side like a limpet.

“I have to talk to Al about it.” He tugged on his ponytail absentmindedly. “I have to talk to Ling about it…”

Roy’s eyes were lit up like a Christmas tree. “So…you’re considering it?”

“Well, I love you, don’t I?” Ed rolled his eyes. For such a smart guy, Roy could be pretty dense sometimes. “It’d be kind of dumb of me to not at least think about it, you know?”

“That’s the second time you’ve said that,” Roy said softly. He got off the couch and leaned over Ed, smirking down at him and angling his head just slightly, moving slowly as if waiting for Ed to stop him. Ed didn’t react, just watched him with slightly narrowed eyes, not moving away but not moving any closer either. Roy inched his face closer and his warm breath was on Ed’s cheek and the same old faint cologne filled Ed’s nose, making Ed’s throat go dry. He knew where that scent was strongest, in the hollow of Roy’s throat, and Ed remembered pressing his nose there, burying his face in Roy’s neck, inhaling the intoxicating mix of that cologne and post-sex sweat. His lips were slack when Roy kissed them.

“I love you, too,” he said when he pulled away. They were so close that his ridiculously sexy hair was falling in Ed’s eyes.

“You said that already.” Ed wanted to kiss him again, wanted to push that dark hair out of his face and hold onto him and kiss him so hard and for so long that they’d have to evolve to adapt a new way of inhaling oxygen.

“And I’d like to continue saying it.” A soft thumb swept over Ed’s cheekbone. “For as long as you want me to.”

It had been in this same armchair, that first time. Roy had been sitting in it. Ed had been corralling him, first with his arms and his proximity, and afterwards with his words. He’d given Roy a choice.

“ _Do you_ want _me?”_

_“I—” Dark eyes that were a little afraid, a little uncertain, extremely curious, and absolutely beautiful. “Yes.”_

Now it was Ed being given a choice. He wanted to fall to his knees and say _yes, yes, yes, please_ , but he had to be rational about this. He had to think it through. He wasn’t a kid anymore. He couldn’t make impulsive decisions anymore. He couldn’t just dive in headfirst without considering the consequences.

He wanted to ask Roy what he should wear when they announced their relationship publicly.

“Do I have some kind of deadline to answer?” Ed asked, focusing on the knot of Roy’s tie at his throat. If he looked at Roy’s eyes, he’d be gone.

Roy pulled away and straightened up, giving Ed room to let go of the breath he’d been holding. The first thing he was going to do if he stayed was find Roy’s cologne and throw it away. How the hell was Ed expected to make any kind of rational decisions under that kind of influence?

“I don’t want to put you under any pressure, of course. Julia’s agreed to hold off on announcing the pregnancy until you and I have made our decision, but she won’t be able to hide it for long. Nor will we be able to hide the divorce process…”

“So, as soon as possible,” Ed surmised. He got to his feet. “I’ll talk to Al about it. I’ll let you know.”

“Can we actually trade numbers now?” Roy smiled. “So I don’t have to go through your secretaries to reach you?”

It was ridiculous to think that they had known each other for so long, they’d confessed their love to each other, and they didn’t even have each other’s phone numbers yet.

Ed reached his hand into Roy’s pocket and grinned when the man stiffened at the touch. He dug in and pulled out Roy’s cellphone.

“You really shouldn’t just stick your hands in my pants unless you’re going to do something about it,” Roy pouted.

Ed rolled his eyes. Again. For a man so much older than him, Roy could really be a child sometimes. “Shut up, you big baby.” He held the phone out and Roy punched in his passcode and unlocked it. Ed dialed his own number, called himself, and waited for his phone to start ringing in his pocket before hanging up and slipping it back into Roy’s pocket. “There.”

Roy was staring at him. “What the hell was that ringtone?”

“Beyonce.” Ed pushed his hands into his coat pockets again and stepped away from Roy. “I should go now. Got things to…discuss. And think about. And. Stuff. Yeah.”

“Pity.” Roy shook his head. “I’d been hoping for a round of make-up sex at least.”

Ed snorted. “Fucking pervert. We can have make-up sex when we _actually_ make up, which we haven’t technically done yet— _why_ are you smirking like that, you bastard?”

“You said ‘when’.” Roy’s smirk widened. “You said _when_ we make up, not _if._ ”

Ed’s cheeks flared with heat. “Y-You—” He growled, frustrated by his own embarrassment. Roy really had a way of rendering his brain cells completely impotent, and he didn’t even need to _try._ “Whatever. I’m leaving.”

He turned on his heel to walk out, but Roy called him back.

“Before you choose, what if I gave you a small taste of what I’m willing to offer you?” Roy asked when Ed turned to look at him.

Ed narrowed his eyes. “That is one of the shadiest things I’ve ever heard, and I’m a prostitute.”

Roy laughed. “What I meant was—I’d like to take you out on a date. A real date. No money is exchanged, no company policies dictating our actions—just you and me, having dinner, and maybe a movie afterwards.”

Ed didn’t say that he’d never actually gone out on a date before. Roy didn’t need to know that particularly pathetic fact about him just yet. “Go out on a date? Wouldn’t that look…suspicious?”

Roy pulled a face. “Okay, maybe ‘go _out_ on a date’ is the wrong term. I could cook you dinner at my house later on in the week. Perfectly private, no prying eyes. Just the two of us.”

 _And my bodyguard,_ Ed added petulantly. “All right.” His stomach had twisted itself into a mess of knots at the thought of a date with Roy, but Roy didn’t need to know that either. “Just—text me the details.”

“Of course,” Roy grinned, but then frowned when Ed just nodded and turned to walk away again. “Wait! Don’t I get a goodbye kiss?”

Ed paused. “Not before the first date, you don’t.” He didn’t look back at Roy as he exited the room and closed the door behind him. Heinkell was leaning against the opposite wall, arms crossed and looking pissed, and Ed just gave him a jerk of the head and left him to follow along behind as he made his way to the elevator. Ed pulled out his phone from his pocket, and noted the missed call from an unsaved number. He quickly added it to his contacts simply under the name ‘Bastard’.

***

Heinkell wouldn’t _stop complaining._

“I can’t believe I’m being dragged out here so you can play house with your perv boyfriend.”

Ed punched him in the arm. He had learned that Heinkell was too thick to actually hurt, but it helped release some of his frustrations. “He’s not a perv, asshole. And you think I want you taggin’ along? Sheesh. Neither of us are happy about this, so would you shut up about it already?” He didn’t even try to dispute the ‘boyfriend’ label. It was a battle he had already lost with Al and Winry, and he didn’t have hopes of winning it with this prick.

The house was a two-story, simple white construction. It was very modern looking, with tall glass panel windows and silver accents on the exterior décor. There was a large garage to the side, but it was closed so Ed couldn’t see if there were any cars inside. Was Roy even home yet? He had texted Ed to be there at five, and it was already ten past. So he should be waiting, right?

“It’s not as fancy as I imagined,” Heinkell commented. “Isn’t this guy supposed to be some rinky-dink politician?”

“What are you talking about? This is totally nice. They’re probably just not obnoxious about their money,” Ed said, leading his bodyguard up the narrow path to the front door.

“Or maybe they used to live in a mansion but he spent so much on you, they had to downgrade.”

Ed growled. “I prefer Donkey Kong. He’s still annoying, but he’s a lot quieter about it.” He rang the doorbell. “Please don’t fuckin’ embarrass me, okay? I’ll have Ling rip out your balls.”

“Harsh,” Heinkell grunted and crossed his beefy arms over his thick chest.

If he was being honest with himself—and Ed was trying _very_ hard not to be—he was kind of nervous about this. This was a _date._ An actual _date._ With another human being. Yes, it was Roy, who he’d technically known for months and they had already exchanged mutual declarations of love (well, Ed hadn’t really _declared_ it like Roy had; just stated it, like a fact), so it’s not like he was going to be _rejected,_ which was always a very rational first-date fear. Or so he had been told.

So he’d never actually dated anyone before; it’s not like he was going to admit that to anyone that didn’t already know it.

The door opened and the person on the other side was certainly not Roy. Ed blanched.

Julia Mustang stood there, in a delicate gray pencil skirt and a flowy white blouse, chestnut-brown hair falling in waves over her shoulder and green eyes travelling the long distance between Edward and Heikell’s faces.

She parted her petal-pink lipstick lips and smiled at Ed, who felt like all the blood had drained out of his head and was pooling into his feet. He felt a bit faint. Maybe he would pass out and be spared the very awful and awkward encounter this was about to become.

“Good thing Roy told me how young you were,” she said, “or I was about to be _very_ confused.”

“Huh?” Edward felt very stupid. Very, very stupid, and very much like he wanted to run away and never stop running.

Julia giggled. “Well, he told me ‘Edward’ is blonde and attractive. And you two show up and for one second, I’m here trying to figure out which of the two attractive blonde men on my doorstep is Edward. I briefly asked myself when Roy developed a taste for large, muscular dominant types, but then I remembered he also mentioned ‘Edward’ being much younger.”

Heinkell laughed, deep and rumbly, but Ed didn’t understand why he was laughing, why he found anything in this situation funny. This was the wife of the man he was sleeping with, the woman who was getting divorced and whose life was being completely torn apart because of _him,_ and Heinkell was laughing with her like this wasn’t the single most terrifying moment of Ed’s life. Which was saying something.

“Name’s Heinkell, miss,” his bodyguard said, holding out a hand for Julia to shake. It completely dwarfed hers. “I’m Ed’s bodyguard.”

“Nice to meet you. I’m Julia Hastings.” She smiled. “Getting used to introducing myself with my maiden name again. You can call me Julia.”

They let go and Julia turned to Edward again and he felt like his whole body was cement and he couldn’t move if he wanted to.

“So…do you prefer ‘Edward’ or ‘Ed’?”

Ed choked on his spit. Heinkell’s large paw slammed into his back and he pitched forward, gasping, then straightened himself out and wheezed, “E-Ed. Ed is fine, Miss Must—ah! I mean Miss Jul—er—Miss…Hastings, was it?”

“Julia,” she said, smiling kindly. “Are you usually so high-strung? Or is it just me making you nervous?”

Ed laughed but it sounded like hysterics.

“You need to breathe, Ed.” She reached forward and Ed visibly flinched when she touched his shoulder. “I’m not going to hurt you. I cheated on him too, remember?” She winked and pulled her hand back and, strangely, that did make Ed feel better.

“Is Roy here?” he asked. He felt childish, but if Roy was around it would make this so much easier for his nerves.

“No, I’m afraid he’s still at work.”

“But…he told me—?”

“Ah, I’m afraid that was me.” She smiled a bit bashfully. “I stole his phone to text you to come earlier then deleted the messages. Sorry, I know it was wrong. I just wanted to meet you, but Roy kept refusing.”

Ed blinked. And blinked and blinked and blinked. “You…wanted to meet me?”

“Of course. I didn’t realize why he was so against it. He’d even met Ricky already, so I didn’t see what the big deal was. But now I see that he was protecting you from going into cardiac arrest when you met me.” Her smile was pleasant and Ed felt the tension slowly draining away. “Please, come in, both of you.”

Julia led them through the house into the kitchen. Ed glanced at the picture frames that lined the hallway, eyes skimmed over the living room and parlor as they passed the opening and then raised his eyebrows at the large kitchen. It looked much like the exterior of the house—white with silver accents everywhere.

“Would you like some wine?” she asked. Normally, Ed would turn down any offer of alcohol, but his nerves were still a bit frayed, so he nodded. “And you, Mr. Heinkell?”

“Ah, no, thank you, miss. I’m working. I won’t say no to a glass of water though.”

Julia nodded and pulled out three glasses and filled one with water, one with juice, and one with wine. As Ed sipped at his wine, he looked around the kitchen ( _not_ because he was avoiding looking at Julia, okay?) and noticed a large cardboard box in one corner, labelled ‘Kitchen’.

“You guys are already packing?” Ed asked, pointing at the box.

“Hm? Oh, yes. Roy wants to move out as soon as possible. He’s already put a down deposit on a cozy little condo. It’s very nice, you’ll love it.” Ed blushed at Roy’s _wife_ telling him how much he would enjoy Roy’s _new home_. This was like some freaky Twilight Zone crap. “Our realtor already has a few prospective buyers on the house. Did you know Roy tried to convince me to take the entirety of the profits from the house instead of splitting it fifty-fifty?”

Ed’s eyebrows shot up. “What…seriously?”

Julia rolled her eyes and nodded. “He told me to take it ‘for the baby’. Which I think is just his sneaky way of trying to get out of buying an actual baby gift. And since I told him to take his offer and shove it, he still has to buy one.” She looked very smug about this. Edward was starting to like her.

Ed sipped at his wine some more and Julia watched him with curious eyes. “So…Ed…” It sounded like it was leading into a question and Ed panicked at what that question could be.

 _What does my husband see in you? Why did he pick you over me? What makes you so special that he decided to just toss me aside like garbage in favor of shacking up with_ you _?_

He had to remind himself that Julia didn’t resent Roy for his extramarital affair. He had to remind himself that Julia herself had had an extramarital affair. That she was _pregnant_ with another man’s child. That she got pregnant because she _wanted_ to break up with Roy, she _wanted_ the divorce. She didn’t hate him or Roy. She didn’t, she didn’t, she didn’t.

He idly wondered where she kept the knives in this kitchen.

“Can I speak with you frankly?” she asked. Then flashed her eyes to Heinkell, who had downed his water a while ago. “And…privately, maybe?”

Heinkell raised an eyebrow. “I don’t really mind leaving you two alone, but if you maim him too badly, my boss ain’t gonna be too happy with me.”

Ed wanted to drown in his wine glass.

Julia laughed. “I don’t want to hurt Edward. If anything, I should be thanking him. I just want to…clear some things up.”

Heinkell shrugged and handed her his empty glass. “I’ll be outside if you need me.”

As soon as Heinkell had closed the front door behind him, Julia smiled at Ed and said, “Why don’t we go into the parlor?”

Their parlor was actually just a small-ish room off of their living room, with a fireplace and a pair of black leather reclining armchairs. There was a low coffee table between the two, and a tall rack of CDs in a corner near the window. Next to the fireplace there was a slim bookshelf filled to bursting with books and magazines, and on the mantle over the fireplace there were picture frames and a variety of decorative knick-knacks. Julia sat in one of the armchairs, but Ed felt too wired up to sit, so he drifted over to look at the pictures.

The three largest ones had been placed strategically, one at either end and one in the center. The one in the place of honor was a wedding picture, Roy looking dashing as hell in his black tuxedo, Julia looking stunning in a snow white dress with a long train, holding a bouquet of flowers, both smiling radiantly at the camera. It made Ed’s stomach churn slightly so he looked at the others. The one on the left was of Julia, all dressed up, arm around the waist of another pretty woman. She was blonde and also dressed up, and she was probably Julia’s sister or cousin or something because Ed knew enough about genetics to know that eyes that shade of green were extremely rare. The last large picture was of a much younger Roy, smiling brightly with his arm slung around the shoulders of a dashing man who was dressed up in some kind of black uniform. Roy didn’t have any brothers, and there was only one man he talked about often enough that he might deign to put up on this mantle.

“This is that Hughes guy, isn’t it?”

Julia hummed. “Yes, that’s Maes. I take it Roy’s told you a lot about him? Those two are inseparable.”

“Yeah.” Ed grinned. “I’ve heard so much about this guy I feel like I already know him. When was this taken?”

“A few years before I met Roy. At Maes’ graduation from the police academy.”

The blood drained out of Ed’s face. He hadn’t known _that_. “He’s a cop?”

“Detective, actually.” Julia got off the seat to join Ed by the fireplace. “I realize that might make you uncomfortable, considering your line of work. Oh, don’t look so surprised. Roy explained everything to me. You really shouldn’t be worried about Maes. Didn’t you know that he’s actually the one that recommended your service to Roy?”

Okay, so maybe there were _a lot_ of things Ed didn’t know.

Julia giggled at his dumbstruck face. “Apparently some of his work buddies were putting together money to buy one of their friends a ‘special’ birthday present and Maes heard about it, and that’s how he found out about your company. Maes isn’t a threat to you or your boss, Ed.”

Ed hadn’t really been worried about that. It wouldn’t be the first time a cop got too close to the business and Ling had dealt with them. It was actually more concerning to think about the strain it would put on his and Roy’s relationship if Ed’s best friend did anything to Roy’s.

“Maes wouldn’t let anything bad happen to Roy, which is why I feel better about leaving him. I know that he and Riza will take good care of him.” Her voice had turned soft, a little tender, just a hint of sadness there.

“You make it sound like he’s a kid that needs babysitting,” Ed grinned. “I mean, I know he’s kind of a manchild, but—are you really that worried about him?”

Julia smiled, a secret smile that said she knew something he didn’t. “Come on, sit. This is what I wanted to talk to you about.” She gently guided him by the arm to the nearest armchair (which was plush and nice and heavenly to sit on, if anyone asked), and then sat in the other one. “I don’t know what exactly you think my relationship with Roy is like, but I just wanted to explain it to you from my point of view.”

She set her empty glass on the coffee table and Ed sipped at his wine some more, suddenly nervous again.

“Our marriage was never the happiest or the most passionate, but we rarely argued or fought. Roy and I understand each other, and we work well together. I guess our relationship felt more like a business partnership than a marriage.” She laughed a little, fiddling with the hem of her skirt. “That’s how we ended up here, getting divorced and in love with other people. I can’t say much of Roy as a husband, because even though he was always supportive and kind to me, he always felt kind of distant. However, as a friend, Roy is invaluable to me.”

Her sharp eyes pinned his. “Being a politician’s wife—especially one as controversial as Roy—is…difficult. Everything I do reflects on him. My actions greatly influence people’s opinion of him. If I didn’t support and agree with his political ideals, I would have decided being his wife was more of a hassle than it was worth a long time ago. But I know how important Roy’s goals are to him, and I believe that he is a man capable of great things, so I never complained. I’ve always wanted to see him succeed, and I’ve seen what his ambitions do to him. Sometimes he works so hard he forgets to eat or sleep. He’s very driven, but sometimes he needs someone to pull him back a little, give him some perspective. Ricky and I have been planning on moving away together for some time, but one of the strongest things holding me back was my fear of leaving Roy alone. So you were kind of a blessing to me.”

Julia’s smile was kind for a moment, but then she turned serious again. “That being said, Roy is putting a lot on the line entering this relationship with you.” Ed swallowed; he’d really rather not be reminded of that, of all the things that could go wrong, of all the things Roy could lose because of him. “Roy told me that if you decided to be with him, you’d be leaving your brother and you’d be sacrificing your job. Now, while I understand that must be significant for you, it’s not enough. If you intend on being with Roy, that means you’ll have to sacrifice your own personal privacy. You will need to be on your best behavior in public at all times, you will need to be candid about your relationship—secrecy leads to speculation and rumors, which lead to bad publicity. If Roy decides to bring you into his professional life, you will need to do _a lot_ of ass-kissing. He does plenty of it by himself, but it never hurts to help him.

“Especially considering your situation—you both being men, and the circumstance of our divorce—you will be under even more scrutiny. A lot of people are not going to be happy with Roy for this decision and they are going to look for absolutely anything to use against him to make him look like a terrible person. You have to make sure not to give them anything. And if this relationship of yours lasts a long time, it’s only going to get worse as Roy gains more and more influence. You need to be prepared.”

Ed’s hands were shaking. He set his wine glass on the coffee table and held them together in his lap, lips pressed tightly together and eyes fixed on his knees. Everything Julia had just said had terrified him. He had no idea if he was ready to take on something like that. When Roy had told him that he would be put into the public eye, he imagined tabloid photographers on the street, or people pointing and staring at him at the market. Yeah, that thought was enough to make him uncomfortable, but it had seemed bearable. He hadn’t realized just how much was riding on him. Ed knew he wasn’t considered approachable even on his best days, how was he meant to act in a way that wouldn’t reflect badly on Roy?

“I’m not telling you this to scare you, Ed.” Too late. “I’m telling you this because I’m not sure if Roy realizes just how delicate the situation is. He’s so blinded by wanting to be with you, that he can’t see how it might hurt him. So you need to decide if you’re willing to work for Roy’s sake. You need to decide if you’re capable of taking on the responsibility of being Roy’s partner. Because if you dive headfirst into this without thinking about _him_ first and you end up hurting him or his career, there will be plenty of people unhappy with you—myself included.”

That had definitely been one of the most terrifying ‘hurt him, I’ll hurt you’ speeches Ed had ever heard. He should have been taking notes for when he talked to Al’s dates.

A small, warm hand took his and Ed looked up to see Julia leaning over, smiling at him. “Roy loves you very much, Edward. And I can see by how scared you look that you care very much about him, too. I think that—despite the mess it will put you both in—at the end of the day, that’s all that really matters. Roy doesn’t give things up without a fight, and that’s true both in his career and his personal life. He’ll fight till the end to be able to have them both. Everything I warned you about might sound scary, but it all just boils down to being there for Roy when he needs you. That’s all it really is.”

Ed’s tongue seemed to have retreated back into his throat for how much use it was to him right now. It was rare for him to not have at least _something_ to say, but all he could think was—

“What if I fuck up?”

Julia gripped his hand tighter, her smile becoming softer, more motherly. “You probably will. Just try your best, make an effort. Roy will appreciate that, and he won’t stop loving you if you mess up a few times. But if you ever need any advice—on how to deal with the media, or Roy’s job, or just Roy himself—I’ve had six years of experience. I’d be happy to help you whenever you need it.”

“Y-You—You would?” Ed clung to her hand. She had suddenly become his lifeline, saving him from drowning in his doubts.

“Of course,” she beamed. “You seem like a good guy, and Roy thinks the world of you. You both deserve to be happy, and I’ll help however I can.” With one last squeeze of his hand, Julia pulled away and checked the time on her thin watch. “Roy should be home in a few minutes. I’ll wait till he gets here to leave. So…why don’t you tell me about yourself?”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> there is a severe lack of smut in this fic and it is starting to get to me

Ed helped Roy make dinner. Roy was visibly awkward. Ed tried hard not to find it hilarious. He failed.

As Roy struck up a casual conversation while they cooked and cast him suspicious looks out of the corners of his eyes, Ed considered bringing the topic up just to put Roy out of his misery. But Ed knew he had a bit of a sadist buried deep inside him and watching Roy squirm was just too much fun. The memory of Roy’s aghast face when he had walked in through the door to find him and Julia in the parlor chatting like old friends was enough to make Ed almost double over with laughter into the chicken broth.

Roy himself didn’t say a word to betray how curious he was, but it was pretty obvious that he was itching to ask.

When they finally sat down at the kitchen table with their plates, Roy put a napkin over his lap and cleared his throat. “So. Edward.” Ed pressed his lips together to keep from laughing. It was coming now, he was finally going to ask—

“How was your day?”

Ed burst out a bark of laughter. Roy paused with the fork halfway to his mouth to stare.

“Dammit, Roy, stop being a dumbass.” Ed’s voice cracked through his laughter. “Just _ask_ already. We both know you’re dying to.”

A brief expression of irritation at being figured out—as if it hadn’t been _obvious_ —flashed over Roy’s face, but then he set his fork down and cleared his throat again.

“All right, then. What did you two talk about?”

Ed grinned as he brought up his own fork and said, “You.”

“Ah.” He took a nervous sip of his wine.

Julia had left soon after Roy had arrived—after explaining to Roy exactly why Ed was in their house earlier than planned and emphasizing that it had been _her_ fault and apologizing profusely for taking his phone without permission. Then she’d kissed him on the cheek, hugged Edward (Ed thought Roy’s eyes were going to pop out of his skull), and told them to have a nice time before going out the door and to her car. Roy hadn’t even mentioned anything being out of the ordinary, just asked Ed if he would like to help him cook dinner.

“May I ask what in particular you discussed?” Roy asked, the cool mask in place, trying not to show exactly how nervous he was.

Ed just shrugged, swallowed his bite of chicken and said easily, “Mostly we just talked about how you are in the sack.”

Roy choked on his wine and spluttered, quickly dabbing at his face with a napkin as Ed laughed some more.

“Julia would _never_ —”

“Oh, _relax._ ” Ed leaned back in his chair so far the front legs came off the ground, the force of his laughter too strong to contain. “Oh, god— _your face._ Jeez…”

Roy narrowed his eyes at Ed, stuck his foot out and just slightly nudged one of the front legs up higher, making the balance almost tip over and Ed flailed for a second before crashing back down on all four legs. Ed shot Roy a glare, laughter gone, and Roy just looked back serenely.

“Are you quite done laughing at me?” Roy asked sweetly and Ed scoffed.

“Nope. Always gonna laugh at you. Especially if you keep making stupid faces like that.” He readjusted his chair and turned back to his plate, cutting off another piece of chicken. “We didn’t talk about your sexual prowess, all right? All she did was give me some advice.”

“Advice on what, if I may ask?”

“Dealing with your dumb ass,” Ed said around a mouthful of chicken. Yeah, this was a date, but they weren’t in public, and if Roy cared if he talked with his mouth full, then this relationship wasn’t even going to work out in the first place. “Just things about you and your work. Like how I might cause you some problems professionally. She’s really worried about you.”

Roy frowned down at his plate. “She really shouldn’t have told you anything about that. The only one who should be concerned about my job is me. You shouldn’t be worried about that.”

Ed rolled his eyes. “Well, that’s a load of bullshit. I figured you’d say something like that.” He stuffed some bread into his mouth as Roy watched him curiously. “You want us to date, right? Like—serious, for real dating. An actual relationship. If we do that, it’s going to affect your job, and I’m not gonna just sit by while you deal with all the crap they fling at you. What kind of boyfriend would I be if I did that?”

Roy’s face lit up. “Boyfriend?”

Ed had lost the battle with Al and Winry and hadn’t even attempted to have it with Heinkell. He was not about to have the label argument with Roy either, so he stuffed more bread into his mouth.

“Julia was just offering some advice on dealing with the shit that’ll come from us going public,” he evaded.

Roy leaned forward, grin on his face. “We’re going public?”

Ed almost choked on his bread. Was there no way out of this maze? The more he tried to get out of it, the deeper he got into it.

“What I mean—I just—we have to—” He swallowed the large lump of bread in his mouth and chugged some wine to chase it down. “We—I was just saying—y’know— _in case_ we decide to go public—which we don’t know yet—but I should—should be prepared. Just in case. Uhm.”

Showing an uncharacteristic streak of mercy, Roy leaned back again and didn’t push the subject any further. But he was smirking like the giant bastard he was.

“How nice of her,” he said. “However, it was still wrong of her to invite you over like that without telling me about it.”

Ed felt a surge of irritation and barely refrained from throwing what was left of his bread at Roy’s face. “What was _wrong_ was you deciding for me that I couldn’t meet her.” Roy suddenly looked like a frightened rabbit. “The hell, Mustang? If she wanted to talk to me, you could have told me and I would have told you whether or not I wanted to talk to her. Where do you get off deciding that for me?”

Looking properly chastised, Roy averted his eyes. “You’re right, I’m sorry. That wasn’t my place to decide. I guess I was just afraid you two wouldn’t get along—which now I see was a vast error on my part since you seem to be the best of friends.”

There was a look of barely hidden terror on Roy’s face that made Ed tingle with amusement.

“I really like her.” He shot Roy a mischievous little grin. “She’s way too good for you.”

Roy looked surprised for a moment, but then he smiled. “Yes, I agree with you on that.” He took another bite of food and swallowed, dabbing at his mouth before saying, “I suppose I should enjoy my time with you as much as I can before you realize you are as well.”

Ed had no way to respond to that, so he just shoveled some more food in his mouth and if Roy asked why his face was so red, he’d just say that the wine had gone to his head.

The rest of dinner went smoothly. Ed kept his outbursts to a minimum, which was probably a direct result of Roy dialing down the teasing, and before they realized it, they were finished with their food and Roy was offering Ed some ice cream for dessert. Ed, of course, practically jumped up at the prospect of ice cream, gathering up the dirty plates and helping Roy take them into the kitchen.

Roy tried to take the dishes from Ed, insisting that Ed was his guest and shouldn’t be cleaning, but Ed shoved him away towards the fridge and told him to start serving the damn ice cream. Ed took the plates into the sink and started rinsing them off, sleeves pushed up to his elbows. He could feel Roy’s eyes on him and would have turned around to bark at him to focus on the ice cream—if only his face weren’t burning up.

As Ed washed one of the wine glasses, hands snaked over his hips around to the front, making him jump slightly. Roy chuckled, pressing his face into the back of Ed’s neck. He didn’t do anything other than that, and Ed just swallowed thickly, forced himself to relax, and continued focusing on the dishes.

Lips brushed his nape and Ed bit his lip.

“What are you doing?” he asked as nonchalantly as he could as he wiped down the silverware.

Roy pressed a kiss to his skin and murmured, “I’m just showing you some affection.” He pressed another kiss, a little higher up this time, and Ed’s skin prickled. “I’m very glad you agreed to come tonight, and I’d like to express my gratitude.” His nose traced over the space behind Ed’s ear.

“Oh, that’s nice.” Ed had finished with the dishes, but he couldn’t move without dislodging Roy, which would look like a rejection, so he just left his hands on the edge of the sink. “For a second there, it felt like you were trying to seduce me.”

“Really?” Another kiss, bottom lip catching and dragging against the corner of Ed’s jaw. “I don’t see how, but I highly doubt anyone would blame me if I _were_ trying to seduce you.” His hands circled around to wrap around Ed’s stomach lightly, pulling his hips back, making Roy’s chest press flush against Ed’s shoulders. “You are so highly irresistible.” The words were a murmur, vibrating along Ed’s cheek and Ed held his breath.

“Is this normal first date behavior?” Ed asked, drumming his fingers lightly against the sink.

“Mmm, probably not.” And that was definitely a tongue trailing, hot and wet, behind Ed’s ear. “But you have a way of making me want to break all the rules.”

The silky smooth whisper went through Ed’s ear, into his brain, travelled down to his legs, and made his knees tremble.

“Roy.” Ed tried to keep his voice steady. He swallowed. “We’re not having sex tonight.”

And, just like that, Roy pulled away. Ed turned around, expecting Roy to look angry or annoyed, but Roy was just watching him curiously.

“Why not?” he asked mildly.

“We’re in your house,” Ed replied. “In you and your wife’s house. I’m not having sex with you here.”

Roy’s mouth quirked in amusement. “I’ve been sleeping in the guest room. We could—”

“I’m sure it’s a very nice guest room,” Ed cut in. “I’m sure you’ve been getting great sleep on a very comfortable mattress, but I will not be testing that mattress to be sure of that.”

Roy crossed his arms over his chest, looking more and more amused by the second. “You’re very against this, aren’t you? Is it because of Julia? Because she’s gone to spend the night at her sister’s. She’ll be going straight to work from there in the morning, won’t come back here till the afternoon.” Ed had asked him before who had dinner dates on a workday, but Roy’s response had just been that he had all Thursday evenings free. Of course.

“How nice for her.” Ed crossed his arms as well, prepared to stand his ground. It wasn’t exactly easy. Every inch of him was thrumming to drag Roy upstairs into the guest room and get very naked very quickly. They hadn’t had sex since the break-up, almost three weeks prior. Ed knew what three weeks without Roy felt like already. It wasn’t pleasant.

But he’d already been having sex with the woman’s husband for months, and even though he knew neither she nor Roy had a problem with it, the idea of having sex with Roy in the house they had shared for years really unsettled him.

“Edward, she really won’t mind. In fact, she probably expects us to—”

“I was promised a movie.” Ed gave Roy a severe look. “You promised me dinner _and_ a show, and if the show is you begging me to put out, I’m not going to complain, but don’t expect a happy ending.”

Roy laughed, shaking his head and holding up his hands in a gesture of surrender. “All right, all right. I won’t push. I know how to pick my battles.” He leaned forward, pecked Ed on the lips and muttered, “You are the absolute most charming man I’ve ever met.”

Cheeks heating up, Ed shoved at Roy’s chest, storming away from him. “Stop trying to flatter your way into my pants, you complete shit! Where the hell is my ice cream? And what movie are we fucking watching?”

Laughing, Roy picked up the ice cream he’d left on the kitchen table—one small bowl with three scoops for him and the rest of the carton with a spoon in it for Ed, and it was suddenly a lot harder to keep himself from just ripping Roy’s pants off right then and there. They went into the living room, Roy gave him a list of options from his DVD collection, and after Ed picked one he’d never seen before, they kicked off their shoes and settled on the couch together.

Roy spent the entire movie watching Ed with fond eyes. First as he shoveled fist-sized bites of ice cream into his mouth and then as he fell asleep halfway through (the movie, not the carton; the ice cream never stood a chance). Ed made a little noise as Roy pulled him down, adjusted his head on his lap, and very carefully—inch by torturous inch—slipped the hair tie out and combed his fingers through Ed’s hair. Ed buried his face in Roy’s thighs and dozed blissfully.

Roy let Ed sleep even after the movie had ended, simply watching him. They stayed like that for a while, and then Roy gently shook Ed’s shoulder, brushed his hair from his face and whispered, “Ed, love. It’s getting late.” Ed mumbled sleepily and pressed his face against Roy’s thigh, making Roy chuckle. “You’re welcome to sleep here if you like, but I’m starting to lose feeling in my legs, so if you wouldn’t mind—”

“Just chop ‘em off later,” Ed grumbled, but raised his head anyways. His bangs were in disarray, the little lock of hair that usually stuck up from his head drooping slightly, but the rest of his hair was perfectly untangled due to Roy’s combing it for over an hour. “No, don’t do that,” Ed slurred, rubbing at his eyes. “Got sexy legs.”

Roy smirked, offering Ed his hair tie and Ed took it, pulling his hair up into its usual ponytail. “I’m glad you think so. I’m sorry you didn’t enjoy the movie.”

“Movie sucked ass.” Ed stretched his arms over his head, yawning.

Roy reached over and gently pat down one side of Ed’s bangs, smoothing it out from where it was sticking out in odd places. “I hope you enjoyed yourself nonetheless,” he grinned, cocking his head slightly to admire the way Ed’s cheeks heated up.

“It was nice, I guess,” Ed mumbled, averting his eyes. “For such a useless bastard, your cooking’s not so bad.”

“Thank you. I think.” Roy leaned forward, took the end of Ed’s ponytail in his hand and twirled it around his hand. “We should do this again. Another date, I mean. Hopefully…somewhere more public, maybe? If you want.”

Ed tensed up, suddenly very awake and very uncomfortable. This hadn’t been _just_ a date from the beginning. This had been another weight on the scale, tipping it in favor of staying with Roy instead of leaving with Al, and now Ed had to make his choice.

“I…I’ll let you know,” he said quietly, avoiding Roy’s gaze. “I still haven’t really discussed it with Al, and Ling is…well. He’s Ling. Haven’t talked to him about it either. I just. Give me a day?”

He couldn’t make himself look Roy in the eyes right now. He just couldn’t. He had to be _rational_ , he had to _think this through_ , and if he caught sight Roy’s beautiful, dark eyes, he knew he would just _crumble._ He would crawl back into Roy’s lap and announce to the world that he was staying there, that he wasn’t moving from there, because that was where he belonged. The only real reason he wasn’t doing just that was because of Al—because no matter how much Ed wanted to stay, if Al asked Ed to go with him to London, Ed wouldn’t hesitate. As heavy as Roy’s weight on the scale was, it would never compare to the monolithic devotion Ed had to his brother.

“Of course,” Roy smiled. “Take all the time you need.”

“I love you,” Ed said, because it felt like the right thing to say. If he couldn’t stay, he needed Roy to understand that it wasn’t because of _him._ There was a whole universe of reasons for Ed to leave, but Roy was the only thing that could make him stay, and he needed Roy to know that. So he leaned forward and kissed Roy, pressed their lips together and felt Roy’s surprised breath sink into his lungs.

Roy—being Roy—took advantage of the opportunity and pulled Ed in closer, gripping his shirt and tugging him in, opening Ed’s mouth and slipping his tongue inside, teeth grazing Ed’s bottom lip and Ed idly wondered how the hell Roy had taken control so quickly when it had been _him_ to initiate the kiss.

“I should go home,” Ed said, pulling away, trying to regain control of the situation because he had decided they weren’t going to do anything tonight, _dammit,_ and he was going to stick to that. “It’s late.”

“You’re welcome to spend the night,” Roy offered again, lips still too close, dangerously close. Ed narrowed his eyes and Roy amended, “Just to sleep, of course. You can take the guest room, I can go back to my old room for the night.”

Ed laughed. “Yeah. Right. That’s not going to happen.” He pulled away and got off the couch to retrieve his boots and pull them on. “Don’t let this go to your head, but it’s hard enough as it is not to jump your bones right now, Mustang. I don’t wanna add any more temptation, ‘kay?”

Ed mentally prepared himself for the epic eyeroll he was going to have to perform when he turned back to look at Roy and inevitably found the most smug-ass smirk a human could produce.

Ed turned back to look at Roy. Roy was smirking so smugly that even Ghandi would feel the urge to punch him. Ed’s eyeroll was truly epic.

“I’m gonna go now,” he said drily, getting up from the couch. “You gonna walk me out?”

Roy stood as well, took Ed’s hand, actually kissed his knuckles— _control your blushing, Elric, you’re not some swooning schoolgirl_ —and then led him out to the door.

Heinkell was outside the door, looking pissed and grumpy, pulling his coat around him tighter to ward off the night’s chill. Roy leaned down to murmur in Ed’s ear—one final moment of privacy—“I’ll wait for your answer, all right?”

Ed grabbed Roy’s face, pulled him in, pressed a kiss to his mouth and whispered, “I’ll let you know,” then moved away before he decided to push Roy back into the house and let Heinkell freeze his balls off all night.

***

The television was on inside the apartment when Ed got home and he checked his watch. Didn’t Al have classes in the morning? What the hell was he still doing up?

He left Heinkell at the front door. Overnight, Darius would come by to relieve him and when Ed woke up in the morning, his bodyguard will have metamorphosed from lion into gorilla, and the process would reverse itself at noon. It was getting exhausting dealing with his bodyguards.

“Al?” he called as he opened and closed the door behind him, locking it.

“Brother!” Al squeaked in surprise. “What are you doing home? I wasn’t expecting you till tomorrow morning at earliest.” Ed took in the sight of his brother—sitting on the couch, in nothing but his underwear, holding a tabby cat in his lap and feet up on the coffee table. There was a remote in his hand, apparently having hurriedly paused the TV when he heard Ed come in. “I mean, it’s not really your style to put out on the first date—if you had a dating style, that is—but I figured that since you’ve already slept with the guy like fifty times—”

“The hell are you doing?” Ed asked incredulously. “Watching porn? Who watches porn with a cat on their junk?”

Al’s cheeks flared. “It is _not_ porn!”

Ed walked around so he could see the television. “What is that? Is that The Notebook?” Al nodded. “This is what you do when I’m not around? Sit around in your underwear and watch chick flicks while petting a cat?”

Al shrugged, nodding again.

“You know you can do this while I’m home, right? I already know you’re a massive loser, it’s not like I’m gonna judge you.”

“It’s not the same, Brother.” He gently moved the cat—Amelia, was this one’s name—from his lap onto the couch and stood up, wrapping a blanket around himself like a shroud and following Ed into the kitchenette. “So what happened? Did the date go badly?”

“No, of course not.” Ed grinned, serving himself a glass of water. “It went great. For such a pompous shit, Roy’s actually a pretty decent cook. Movie sucked, though.”

Al pursed his lips. “If it went so well, then why are you here? I thought—”

“We were in his house, Al. Like. His _house._ The one he still shares with his still _wife_.”

“Ah.”

“I met her, by the way.”

Al’s eyebrows shot up into his hair, settling into one of their kitchen stools. “Really? Did she hate you? Did she say anything to you? Did she just ignore you?”

“She texted me from Roy’s phone to tell me to come over earlier so she could meet me.” Ed chuckled. “She was super great. Really nice. It’s weird. I mean, I know she has a boyfriend, too, but I expected her to be a little bit cold or jealous, but she treated me like a friend. And she’s freakishly protective of Roy.”

“You’re kidding.”

“No, really! She gave me this whole speech about thinking about Roy and taking his needs into consideration and working hard so I don’t hurt him or his career—she was pretty scary about it, but she offered advice and support and, I don’t know, she was just really great. I liked her.”

Al’s grin was devilish. “And how does Roy feel about that?”

Ed snorted into his water. “He looked like he was gonna shit his pants.”

Al laughed loudly. “Having an ex-wife and a current boyfriend join forces sounds pretty terrifying. Poor guy.” He shook his head then smiled beatifically. “So when do I get to meet him?”

Ed narrowed his eyes at his brother. “You want him to meet the family? You do realize he isn’t really my boyfriend, right?”

“Isn’t he, though?” Al cocked his head and searched Ed’s face with too-knowing yellow-green eyes. “You want to stay for him, don’t you? You want to be with him, so why are you still wavering so much?”

Ed gaped like a fish. “Just a few weeks ago you were telling me that going to London would be good for me!”

Al rolled his eyes. “Yeah, to get over your heart-break. But if there’s a chance that you can be happy with him here, you should take it.” Al gave his brother a soft look, reaching out and gripping Ed’s elbow. “I’ll be fine on my own. You should stay. You want to, don’t you?”

That was all it took, really. Ed had known that he would leave without a thought if Al asked him to, but here Al was, offering him the freedom to stay if he wanted to. And, God, did he want to.

Even if Ed wanted to deny it, he could never lie to Al. Not only was Ed a terrible liar, but Al knew him too well, knew him too much to ever be fooled. “I wanna stay,” he admitted. “I mean, I have to talk to Ling about it…but…I love the idiot bastard. I wanna stay with him.”

Al made his best attempt to show all thirty-two of his teeth with his smile.

“I think I’m gonna invite him to Rose’s wedding,” Ed said, turning away for fear of being blinded by the brilliance of his brother’s grin. “You’ll meet him then.”

Al barked in laughter. “That’s in two weeks! Rose is going to _kill_ you for adding a guest last-minute.”

“Nah.” Ed gulped the last of his water and left the glass in the sink. “She’ll be too happy celebrating the fact that I’m not a single loser anymore. I’m gonna go to bed.” He reached up (and resolutely ignored the way Al accommodatingly bent his head downward slightly) to ruffle Al’s hair. “Finish watching your movie and cuddling with the cat. Don’t go to bed too late, all right? You’ve got class in the morning.”

“Yes, Mom!” Al called at him as Ed shut the bedroom door behind him.

As he changed into his pajamas, he shot Ling a text.

**r u gonna b in the office tmrw?**

Ed was just adjusting the sheets over himself when Ling replied. **dunno. you should make an appointment.**

Ed made a face at his phone. Appointment? Appointment, his ass. **b there at 10 ok?**

Ed could almost hear Ling’s irritation when he read the answering text: **sometimes i wonder if you forget that i am YOUR boss, not the other way around.**

**i'm still older than u, brat**

**i'm richer**

Ed laughed. **ur welcome, btw. c u at 10?**

The begrudging tone of Ling’s following ‘ **fine.’** was almost palpable.

***

The Yao Services headquarters were hidden in plain sight. As in, they were an actual office, in an actual office building, with actual secretaries and actual file cabinets and an actual reception area with actual magazines and actual mints in a little jar on the small table. Darius tossed himself on the large couch and started browsing the magazines.

The whole reception area was stylishly decorated, white walls with light blue accents and dark blue furnishings. The reception desk was a large smoothly polished wood monstrosity, made to look even bigger by the tiny girl that sat behind it.

“Mei!” Ed greeted, leaning his elbows on the desk to look over it. Mei Chang, Ling’s adopted sister, sat there, chewing on one of her many braids as she twirled a pen between her fingers and frowned down at something she was reading. She looked up at the sound of Ed’s voice and smiled widely in greeting. “What are you reading that’s got you all sour-faced?”

Mei made a sound of frustration. “Material for my investigation report. I’ve read the same sentence fifteen times and I’m not absorbing anything.” Mei was studying biology, coincidentally at the same college Al was studying chemical engineering. She was a year younger than Al, but the two had become close friends and study partners. Sometimes she hung around the office to help Ling and between that and studying at their apartment with Al, Ed had seen plenty of her over the past few years. “You here to see Ling? He came in earlier, complaining about you.”

Ed grinned. “Really? What was he saying?”

“Something about you being a presumptuous little dick, acting like you were the boss or something.”

“ _Where does that asshole get off calling me little?!”_

Mei rolled her eyes. “He’s in his office now, so you can go in. Oh, when you leave, could you take my chemistry report with you? It’s just a draft, but I’d really appreciate your opinion.”

Ed took a deep breath to soothe his temper and drummed a little beat on the desk as he pulled away. “Sure. I don’t know how long I’ll be in with Ling, but just leave it on the desk if you leave before I do.”

“Thanks, Ed.” She gave him one last beaming smile before bending over her reading again.

Ed pat her head before going around the desk and going down the short hallway that led to Ling’s office. He tapped his knuckle against it once and said, “I’m coming in, so you better have your pants on.”

Ling’s office was the antithesis of the outside office. While the outside was modern and minimalistic, Ling’s office was a splash of red and gold oriental decorations. It wasn’t an overly large space, but Ling managed to fit in a dragon statue (which Ed could appreciate, culturally and aesthetically, because, well, _dragons_ ), a small fountain with crystal clear water that poured over smooth stones (which Ed appreciated a little less because it always made him feel like he had to pee), an ornate cabinet that held a miniature shrine with incense (thankfully not lit right now because Ed did not need to have another sneezing fit), and a beaded curtain by the window. In the corner behind the desk there was a large accordion partition with an intricate design of a large field and a dragon flying overhead that Ling sometimes used to change his clothes (or to hide from Lan Fan, which never worked).

Speaking of Lan Fan.

“Hey, Lan Fan,” Ed said to the shadow by the cabinet.

“Hello, Edward,” the shadow replied.

“Hey, _boss_ ,” Ling sneered, sitting sulkily in his big chair behind the desk. He usually wore nice suits when at work, but today he was in his preferred low-cut flowing yellow shirt and cotton pants.

“Stop whining so much,” Ed grumbled, taking a seat and propping his boots up on the edge of Ling’s desk. “If it really bothered you, you wouldn’t even be here right now.”

“Whatever. Will you tell me why I’m here on my day off?” Ling reached over and pushed Ed’s boots off his desk. Because he knew Ling wouldn’t be happy with what he was about to say, Ed didn’t kick them back up onto it.

“You don’t have days off.” Ed played with the string of his hoodie, chewing on his lip. It’s not that Ling intimidated him—despite his disgusting amount of money and criminal (and possibly sometimes violent) background, Ling was actually one of the nicest, funniest people Ed knew and he knew that Ling, despite their constant bickering, genuinely and honestly cared about him; the two circus animals he’d assigned as Ed’s bodyguards testified to that. Ling was Ed’s best friend, second only to Winry, and he knew their relationship had never been totally reciprocal. At the end of the day, Ling was still Ed’s boss and he always looked out for and protected Ed, something Ed couldn’t do. Not that Ling needed Ed’s protection (Lan Fan was more than enough), but Ed had always felt he owed something to Ling, and here he was, throwing everything Ling had done for him in his face and asking for more.

“I want to stay,” he blurted out. It was going to be an unpleasant conversation no matter how long he stalled.

Ling cocked an eyebrow. “Stay? Whaddaya mean ‘stay’?”

Ed swallowed. This really wasn’t fair to Ling. After all he had done… “I want to stay here, in San Francisco. I don’t want to go to London.”

Ling just stared at him for a while. “Why would you want to do that? Why _the hell_ would you want to do that? Other than because you frickin’ hate me and want me to die a premature death caused by stress-induced ulcers.” Ed winced; he deserved that. “Ed, I’m too young and pretty to die from stress.”

“I’m not trying to kill you, you goddamn drama queen.” Ed tugged at the end of his braid. “I just—I wanna try to have something here. With…Roy.” He braced himself.

Ling’s expression turned dark. “Ed…”

“I know you don’t approve, and I’m sorry about that, okay? But you don’t know him—”

“What I _know_ is that you have a nasty track record with clients.”

Ed snorted, a nasty derisive sound. “Come _on._ As if I’m the only one here with a few bad stories.”

“No, you’re not,” Ling agreed. “You’re just the one with the _most._ And the _worst._ Ed, you’re like a magnet for psychopaths, okay? Clients that I have screened myself, _personally_ , and look totally clean and kosher turn out to be absolute maniacs once exposed to you. You’re like a catalyst for insanity or something.”

“That explains what happened to you, Young Lord,” Lan Fan murmured and Ling shot her a narrow-eyed glare.

Ed was still staring at Ling. “You screened Kimblee yourself?” The name still tasted like bile in Ed’s mouth, even months after the shooting.

“I—” Ling opened and closed his mouth. “That was an oversight. I didn’t screen Kimblee myself. I should have, though. That’s a mistake I’m going to have to live with, and I’m sorry. I’m just relieved he never hurt you.”

“Woulda snapped his legs if he tried,” Ed mumbled, desperately wanting to change the subject. He shouldn’t have brought it up in the first place. “Look, I know I have some bad stories, but Roy isn’t one of them.”

“Not yet, you mean.”

“ _Ling._ ” Ed sighed. “Look, I love this guy, okay? A lot. And he’s willing to put everything on the line for me. I have to give him a chance. I have to give _myself_ a damn chance. Dammit, Ling, the closest I’ve ever come to dating someone is _you_.” Ed winced again; that had sounded a lot less pathetic in his head.

“I’ve said it once, I’ve said it a million times—you ever want to get married, just say the word and we’ll get married.” Ling reclined in his chair, hands behind his head, a shit-eating grin plastered over a smug face.

“I don’t know,” Ed mused. “I mean, I _would—_ but I wouldn’t want to get on Mr. Reed’s bad side, y’know? He seems like the jealous type.”

The grin slid off so fast it was like it had never been there in the first place. “Did you make a list of things to say to annoy me before you came in here? Are you ticking them off as you go?”

Ed’s only response was a shit-eating grin to match the one Ling had lost. Ling sighed and put a hand over his face as if to block everything out. “What about your current situation? I was really hoping it would become a non-issue once you left.”

Ed frowned at the little ceramic panda on Ling’s desk. A gift from Mei that Ling pretended to hate but dusted and cleaned religiously. “I—I don’t know. I think that if this guy is as intent on finding me as you say he is, a different country isn’t going to stop him. He’s going to find me eventually, we both know it.” Ling’s hand fell from his face and it was a miracle he didn’t burn a hole in the ceiling with his glare. “It might even be safer for me here, where you can keep an eye on me.”

“You haven’t stopped complaining about your bodyguards since I assigned them to you and now you’re telling me you don’t mind having them hang around for the foreseeable future?”

It would be nice to be able to go around without someone watching his every move, but if Julia’s warnings were anything to go by, he would have to get used to it. “Yeah, I am. He’s worth it.”

Ling pulled a face, reminding Ed of the gangly, pimple-faced seventeen year old that had popped up out of nowhere and offered him a job at his new company. (Ed’s decision-making skills had been pretty subpar at that age, but at least it had worked out for the best in the end.) “I’ve never seen you in love. It’s kind of gross, to be honest.” He crossed his arms over his chest and tucked his chin down—his preferred ‘thinking’ pose. “What are your plans? You told me that if you decided to stay, you’d have to start taking clients regularly again and I’m a pretty easy-going guy, Ed, I’m willing to compromise—but that’s where I draw the line. You cannot start taking clients again, not until this whole thing blows over. Actually I prefer you _never_ start taking clients again.”

“Well, I can’t.” Ed’s mouth twisted sourly. “When Roy and I go public, our relationship’s going to be put up for everyone to criticize—at some point it’s going to come out that I’m an escort.” He didn’t enjoy this part of the situation—he honestly loved his job—but it was for Roy, and Roy was going to make some sacrifices for him, and Julia had made it clear that Ed would have to make a few of his own. This was one of them. “I have to put this part of my life behind me.”

“Finally, some good news!” Ling beamed. He straightened up in his seat and pulled open a drawer filled with files.

“I was hoping,” Ed continued, watching curiously as Ling browsed through the files, “that since you were so willing to help me get a job in London, you could help me get one here.”

“Yeah, sure, sure.” Ling chewed on his lip as he searched and then finally pulled out a file with an “Aha!” Practically bouncing in his seat like an excited puppy, Ling opened the file and pulled out a pen. With a flourish of his wrist, he signed his loopy signature on it and handed the file to Ed. “Sign with your ID number at the bottom.”

When they signed on as escorts, Ling gave them a four-digit ID number. Since it was unwise to have their names on documents, Ling used numbers. The name ‘Edward Elric’ didn’t show up anywhere in any papers at Yao Services, but since each escort had to have a record of their clients and STI-tests, they used their numbers as substitutes. This way, Ling could keep track of all current and past employees, but no one outside the company knew who they were.

Ed looked at the document Ling had signed. ‘Form of Release’. It was already filled out with all the appropriate information. All it required was the date of release and Ed’s signature.

“ _You already had this prepared?_ ” Ed gaped at Ling, who just shrugged easily.

“I had it drawn up the first day I asked you to quit.”

“You’ve had this for _months_?” Ed shook his head, but took the offered pen and signed with his number as he grumbled, “You’d think I was a terrible employee considering how eager you are to get rid of me.”

He stared down at the number. Every time he took on a new client or requested to stop being appointed a certain client, he needed to sign with that number. Every time he had to cancel or reschedule an appointment, he needed to sign with that number. Every time he handed in his bi-monthly STI test, he had to sign with that number. It filled him with no small amount of bitterness knowing that this might be the last time he would sign it.

“You’re one of my best employees,” Ling clarified, taking the form and slipping it into the file again. “But you’ve been at this long enough, and your safety is more important to me than the money you bring in. I’ll handle your file _personally._ ”

“I feel so special,” Ed muttered drily.

Ling beamed as he got out of his chair and tucked the file under his arm before heading out the door. With a sigh, Ed followed. Lan Fan, as always, trailed after them as silent as a shadow.

“You can go home, Ed,” Ling said cheerily. “I’ll call you when I find a job for you.”

“Or when you want to complain about Reed some more,” Ed added.

Ling pulled harshly at Ed’s braid as Ed passed him before disappearing into the archive room. Lan Fan went in after him and Ed rubbed at his head to soothe the sting as he went out to the reception room. He chatted with a still-struggling Mei, took her chemistry report, and waved at her over his shoulder as he left. Darius sighed loudly and obnoxiously as he put his magazines away before following Ed out.

Out of the office building and on their way to the car, Ed pulled out his phone from his pocket and opened up his contact list. The name he was looking for was second on the list since the only name under ‘A’ was Al.

“Ed?” Roy answered after the third ring. He sounded pleased yet slightly confused, as if he were wondering why the hell Ed would be calling him at this hour on a workday. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah. Do you have a minute?”

In the background, Ed heard the rhythmic clicking of heels on a linoleum floor. “Actually, I’m on my way to a meeting right now. Can it wait?”

“It’ll just be a second.” Ed left his free hand in his hoodie pocket, kicking at loose rocks on the asphalt. “I was just wondering when I could see you. Soon, preferably.”

Roy let out a pained sigh. “Unfortunately, my weekend’s all filled up. It’s the busy season. The earliest I can do is Monday. We can have dinner again.”

Ed grinned to himself as he got in the passenger’s side. “Dinner? How ‘bout lunch?”

There was quiet on the other end as Roy tried to figure out what Ed meant. Ed almost hear the cute little furrow between his thin eyebrows folding. “Lunch? I’ll be at work, Ed.”

“What?” Ed snorted. “You don’t go out to lunch sometimes? Are you so hoity-toity that you’ve got people serving you food in your office? A full three course meal, I bet.”

“I—” Roy choked on his words. The clicking heels stopped suddenly and Ed heard a quiet concerned ‘sir?’. “Well. There’s a little bistro down the street I sometimes go to. But—”

“Sounds perfect.” Darius started the car and pulled out of the parking spot. “I’ll drop by and we can go have lunch together.”

“Sir, you’re already late,” the soft voice was saying.

“Right,” Roy said to the other person—Hawkeye, Ed assumed—and the clicking heels resumed. “Edward—I—” The usually eloquent and suave devil that was Roy Mustang was getting tongue-tied talking on the phone with Ed, and Ed felt his ego swell up like a hot air balloon. “I would love to go to lunch with you, Ed.”

“Cool.” It was amazing how calm and confident his voice sounded when his entire brain was screaming at him. “What time should I be there?”

“How about—er—” There was a very loud and sharp clearing of a throat and then Roy proceeded to stammer in fear. Ed would feel bad about getting him in trouble if it weren’t so damn amusing. “I—I have to go now, but I’ll give you over to Riza, she’ll tell you.”

“Okay. Love you.”

There was a choking noise, a quiet “Right,” and then a shuffling sound followed by a far more feminine and much more put-together voice said, “Hello?”

“Ah—hi, Miss Hawkeye, this is Edw—”

“I know,” she said. “Call me Riza. If you don’t mind me asking, what did you say to him just now? I’ve never seen him look so happy before going into conference with the other Senators. He was practically bouncing.”

Ed just laughed.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SORRY IT'S LATE. ;A; but here it is. i like to call this chapter 'ed and roy meet the families'. i also like to call it 'a huge pain in my ass' but that's irrelevant.
> 
> two important people to thank: 1) moani of course because if it weren't for her support this chapter would suck really hard. i'm still not totally happy with it but i'm not as angry with it as i used to be. 2) kanye. this chapter would not even exist without his entire discography to keep me going through my writing binges. thank you for giving me the strength to carry on, yeezus.

It was a sea of black, gray, and dark brown monkey suits and pencil skirts. Ed felt completely out of place.

He’d worn his nice slacks and a button-down, had left his coat with Darius at the entrance, but he was still sporting his thick black buckled boots and swimming in a sea of loafers. He felt like his yellow hair was a highlighter mark in this book of light browns, delicate blondes, and aging grays. He swallowed as he made his way to the reception desk—Hawkeye had told him to just go straight to the office, but he had to find out which way the office was.

As he did so, he cast wary glances around at all the people surrounding him. No one seemed to be paying any attention to him, but he was still nervous. His biggest fear was that someone would recognize him—Roy wasn’t the first politician to get the itch and give Yao’s a call, after all.

Just a few steps away from the reception desk, he froze as he spotted someone that _he_ recognized, but it wasn’t a client. He made a beeline for the blonde woman that was making a turn into a hall and stopped her with a hand on her elbow. She was carrying a stack of files and she almost dropped them as she reacted to the touch.

“I know you,” Ed said, frowning. He took in her short spiky hair, her thick lips, and the shadow of a tattoo that went from her cheek down her neck, hidden under layers of makeup. It would have been impossible to notice unless you knew where to look. “You’re one of Reed’s men, right?” he asked, lowering his voice in case anyone heard.

The woman raised an eyebrow. “Do I look like a man to you, Elric?”

Ed made an irritated noise. “You know what I mean. You’re—fuck, what was your name? Martel? Right? Yeah, that’s it.” The woman’s eyes narrowed, glancing around cautiously at the people nearby, and Ed knew he had guessed right. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“Taking some files to the archive room,” Martel replied drily. “My job.”

“You’re not some lackey assistant,” Ed hissed. “You’re a spy. Why are you here, what does Reed care about some Senators?”

“He doesn’t.”

It took Ed a second, but then it clicked.

It had taken him years to grow out of his adolescent rage, but sometimes it resurfaced, and this was one of those times. “Did—Did Ling ask you to spy on Roy?”

Martel pursed her lips. “Mr. Reed’s orders were to keep an eye on Senator Mustang and report back to him any suspicious activity, that’s all. Whether or not it’s a favor for Mr. Yao, he didn’t say. I just follow orders.”

Ed clenched his fists, ground his molars together and tried to keep from bursting out in rage. It would probably not look good for Roy if he caused a scene in his workplace.

“I already guessed it had something to do with Yao, though.” Martel shrugged and shifted the pack of files in her arms. “He was the one who forged all the reference documents for us to apply for the job. Three of us had interviews to make sure one of us was picked, and I was the lucky one that got the internship—unpaid, by the way.”

Ed looked at her sour face with sympathy. He knew about Martel and her crew—a group of military dissidents that would have been sentenced to prison or worse if Reed hadn’t come along and taken them on as his lackeys. They were his bodyguards, his gang, his enforcers—Reed was a big name both in the legal business world and in the not-so-legal business world, so he needed plenty of smart, strong people that he could trust. Being put on such a boring job must be torture for her.

“Those two idiots,” Ed grumbled, shaking his head. “He put _you_ of all people on this job because of Ling. Any half-brained monkey would’ve done, but Reed chose his best.”

Martel sighed wearily. “Don’t tell Yao I told you this, but Reed would probably break his own legs if he asked him to. It’s kind of pathetic.” She nudged Ed’s elbow with her own. “From what I understand, this whole thing is because of you, isn’t it? Reed’s been complaining lately that all Yao talks about is you anymore and all I hear in Mustang’s office is about Mustang’s affair with a guy named Edward. I thought it was the same Edward.” She grinned, her smile oddly snakelike. “You should watch yourself, kid. Reed doesn’t like you and he’s the jealous type. Very possessive.”

_I knew it_ , Ed thought proudly. “Tell your boss that Ling never shuts up about him. _Ever._ ” If Ed had a dollar for every time that Ling had called him in the middle of the night to discuss the newest thing Reed had said to piss him off—“ _But why would he say that, Ed? Why does he have to be such a dick? We were just having a nice time, but he’s such an asshole. What do you think he meant by that? Do you think he’s bored of me or something?”—_ Ed would be richer than _both_ of those two idiots combined.

“And don’t worry,” he added. “I’ll talk to Ling, make sure you get taken off this job as soon as possible.” It was a complete waste of time and just another manifestation of Ling’s paranoia. If Roy were a threat to him or anyone else, Ed would have known about it a long time ago.

“Thanks, kid.” She cocked her head at him. “You’re Mustang’s lunch date, aren’t you? I’d take you to the office but I’m headed the other way. But—” She looked around, caught sight of someone and called, “Hey, Sheska! Who are those coffees for?”

The person she had called out to—a messy-haired brunette girl with thick glasses—practically jumped at the call of her name, almost spilling the two coffee cups she was holding. “Oh, uh…Miss Hawkeye asked for a coffee and I thought—”

“Prefect.” Martel motioned at Ed with a nod of her head. “He’s here to see Mustang. Show him the way, would ya?”

“Of course!” she beamed at Ed and he exchanged a look with Martel before following the mousy girl past the reception desk and through the opposite hallway.

“This is where Mr. Mustang and his staff work from,” she informed him when they reached a door with a plaque on the front that read ‘R. Mustang’. He reached around Sheska to turn the handle for her as he watched her struggle with balancing the coffee cups she was carrying. She thanked him shyly and then pushed the door open with her hip.

“Mr. Mustang, you have a visitor,” she announced, and Ed followed her through. There were four long desks arranged throughout the large room, with computers and papers and files strewn across them, each with an employee sitting behind it. A smaller desk sat in the back against the wall, a rich deep dark brown, shiny and polished, with a bookcase that reached the ceiling behind it. A large, black chair was behind the desk, facing away from the doorway, and an arm raised from around it, waving lazily.

“Tell them it’ll have to wait until after lunch—I’m busy.” That was Roy’s voice. Ed humphed in irritation. Too fucking busy, huh?

The lovely blonde woman sitting at the desk nearest Roy’s looked up, locked eyes with Ed and noted his petulant expression. Ed recognized her as Hawkeye, Roy’s right-hand woman. “Actually, sir,” she said, “I think you have time for this visitor.”

Sheska worked her way around the desks to Hawkeye’s to hand her her coffee and Roy swiveled his chair around, phone pressed to his ear, to look at the doorway. When he saw Ed, his eyebrows shot up and he straightened up in his chair and Ed got a little warm thrill at seeing him react so openly just by looking at him. He shot Roy a smile and Roy smiled back.

“Yes, yes,” Roy said into his phone. “Could we continue this conversation after lunch? Yes, of course, I’ll call you. Goodbye now.” He hung up and slipped the phone into his breast pocket. “Ah, Edward. It’s been such a terrible morning, but now it doesn’t seem so awful.”

“What a fucking charmer,” Ed rolled his eyes to keep from blushing. He was aware that all the employees were watching him. Did they all know who he was? Did they all know who he was to _Roy_? Did they think he was some kind of gold-digging homewrecker? Trying hard not to think about it as he ignored their stares and walked up to Roy’s desk, he asked, “What the hell was that about ‘too busy’?”

“I have lunch plans,” Roy grinned. “And I couldn’t entertain someone else if I was _too busy_ waiting for you to show up.”

Okay. So he couldn’t help the way his face heated up then.

A low whistle sounded from behind him. “Damn. Never seen the boss at work like this. Even I felt all charmed and gooey by that line.”

Roy turned to glare at the man who had spoken, a blonde man with an unlit cigarette between his teeth, sitting on the edge of another guy’s desk. “It wasn’t a _line_ , Havoc. It was the truth.”

Havoc shrugged.

“Oh, you have lunch plans, sir?” Sheska piped up, looking a bit sullen. “I brought a second coffee for you, but if you’re going to lunch…”

“I’ll take it,” the rotund redhead man who’s desk Havoc had his ass on said. “Can’t let good coffee go to waste. Or bad coffee either, in this case.”

“Would you like me to introduce you to my staff, Ed?” Roy asked politely, and Ed shrugged one shoulder.

“Think I know them all already.” Roy’s eyebrow cocked in question and Ed shrugged again. “You talk about them so often that it kinda sticks.”

“He talks about us?” the smallest employee—a guy with dark hair and glasses thick enough to put Sheska’s to shame—asked.

“What does he say about us?” Havoc leaned closer, grinning widely around his cigarette.

Ed leaned against the desk and tapped his chin pensively. “Let’s see…”

“Er—Edward, maybe we should go to lunch now, aren’t you hungry?”

“Quiet, Mustang, I’m thinking.” It may be a little mean to embarrass Roy in front of his staff but Edward didn’t really have much mercy. “Of course, there’s Miss Hawkeye—uh, I mean _Riza_ , who does most of the work while he takes all the credit.”

Roy spluttered and Hawkeye suppressed a grin.

“Jean Havoc, bodyguard. ‘Not overly bright, but still dangerously clever,’ were his exact words, I think. Heymans Breda, head of PR and a master at subterfuge, coming only second to himself because he’s an arrogant dick like that.” Havoc and Breda exchanged shit-eating grins with each other.

“Vato Falman, walking encyclopedia, knows everything about everything.” The high-cheekboned, grey-haired man’s jaw slacked in surprise.

“And Kain Fuery.” The small man blushed profusely. “’Absolutely brilliant, could probably hack into the Pentagon if I asked him to.’”

Ed turned back around to see how Roy was handling it and found the man with his face buried in his hands.

“Aw, shucks, boss,” Breda laughed. “You said all that stuff about us?”

Ed chuckled and thought to get one last comment in. “He talks about you guys like a soccer mom who’s kid made the winning goal.”

“All right, then!” Roy said suddenly, getting to his feet. “I’m starving. Ed, aren’t you hungry, let’s go eat.”

“Sure,” Ed said nonchalantly, relishing in the slight color in Roy’s cheeks. As Roy turned to pull on his jacket and grab his wallet, Ed looked down at the desk and noticed the picture frames there. What kind of pictures would Roy have on his desk?

Craning his neck, he saw one of the whole team, including a large muscular man who was so big his head got cut off in the shot, another picture of Roy and Julia on their wedding day, and a picture of Roy on a couch with a small girl—maybe five years old—sitting on his lap. Next to him was Maes Hughes, looking older than the picture Julia had shown him the other day, and next to Hughes was a woman with sandy hair and blue eyes who must’ve been Hughes’ wife. There was a fourth frame but instead of holding a photograph, it housed a crayon drawing of two smiling stick figures standing on green squiggles of grass, with a big pink flower and large yellow sun in the corner. Above either stick figure’s head were two names in scrawling handwriting: ‘Daddy’ and ‘Uncle Roy’. Under the two stick figures were the letters ‘BFFS’. Ed couldn’t help but grin hugely at the thought that Roy had actually gotten that drawing framed.

Roy turned back around and caught him staring, and when he looked as well, his eyebrows bunched together. “Hmm.” He picked up the frame with the picture of him and Julia and frowned at it. “I suppose I won’t be needing this picture anymore.”

Ed looked away guiltily.

“It will need replacing,” Roy said casually. “Something to keep me inspired on long, tedious days.” Ed looked up at him and found Roy smiling warmly. Ed blushed again. “I’m sure I’ll come up with something.”

He put the picture frame back on his desk, only lying face down this time, and went around the desk.

“Have you ever seen those posters with the cat holding onto a branch that says ‘Hang in there’?” Ed asked. “That’s pretty inspiring.”

Roy laughed and threw his arm over Ed’s shoulder, pulling him close and kissing the top of his head. Ed’s face felt like it was on fire. The staff was still _watching._ “There’s a thought. Will Mr. Darius be joining us?”

“Donkey Kong’s waiting outside. They wouldn’t let him in.”

Roy started leading him out of the office, arm still around his shoulders when Hawkeye said loudly, “Take Havoc with you,” and he froze. His arm fell from around Ed’s shoulders and he turned to Hawkeye— _Riza—_ with a betrayed expression. Ed pictured him whining ‘ _but mooooom’_ like a teenager and tried very hard not to laugh.

“I don’t think that will be necessary,” Roy tried to reason. “Ed’s bodyguard is more than capable—“

“Ed’s bodyguard is Ed’s bodyguard,” Riza cut in. “Not yours, sir. He is charged with protecting Edward, not you. There are plenty of people out there who would like you dead and Ed’s bodyguard should not have to deal with protecting you as well as Edward. Take Havoc with you.”

Roy humphed. Ed pressed his lips together to keep from laughing.

And then they were headed out the door, the three of them. Roy looked like a surly pre-teen who’d been stuck with a babysitter, and Ed and Havoc were stifling their laughter.

“Who wants you dead?” Ed asked as they walked down the hall.

“Other than Hawkeye, you mean?” Roy asked in a grumble. “I suppose many extremist conservatives who feel threatened by the work I’m doing—which just shows I’m doing the right kind of work. Also political rivals, people whose corrupt jobs I’m threatening, people who just don’t agree with me, women I didn’t call the next day from before I was married—”

“Men whose girlfriends you stole,” Havoc added helpfully.

“I was happily married when you lost your girlfriend,” Roy argued. “I had nothing to do with it.”

“So you’re saying if you hadn’t been married, you would have stolen her?” Havoc groused.

“Women are not objects to obtain and steal, Havoc.” Roy paused. “But if she was pretty enough, I might have made an attempt.”

Havoc made an infuriated choking noise and Ed glanced over his shoulder at his fuming face.

“Well.” Ed huffed out a laugh. “That’s good to know.”

Roy looked at him. “What’s good to know?”

“That I’m not the only one who finds you totally obnoxious.” 

Roy stared. Havoc burst into laughter. Ed grinned cheekily.

“I like this kid, boss,” Havoc choked. He poked Ed in the shoulder. “So how ‘bout you? Why do you have a bodyguard? Who wants you dead?”

Ed’s step faltered but he just kept walking, keeping his gaze on the front door, but he could still feel Roy’s gaze on him. “It’s more like a safety precaution,” Ed shrugged, grinning. “I have a tendency to piss people off. I don’t know how, it just comes naturally to me, I guess.”

They reached the entrance and Roy—fuck this guy, seriously—held the door open for Ed. Once outside, Ed took his coat from Darius and the four of them headed down the street. The second Havoc was out the doors, he pulled out a lighter from his pocket and lit the cigarette he kept hanging from his lip. He offered one to Darius from a pack but Darius just grunted at him.

“I’m very glad you suggested we come out to lunch today, Ed,” Roy grinned at him and Ed had to look away and focus on his feet before he stumbled and fell on his face. “Also rather…surprised…”

“Well, there’s some stuff we gotta talk about.” Ed swung his ponytail over his shoulder and tugged at the end of it.

“Oh?” Roy’s face was stoic when Ed glanced at him, so maybe he felt just as nervous about this as he did; he only ever closed himself off like that when there was something he didn’t want Ed to see. “Such as?”

Where should he start? “Let’s get our lunch first, okay? We can talk while we eat.” Nothing like a full plate of food in front of his face to make Ed feel more at ease.

The bistro Roy took him to was a cozy place on the street corner with large windows to give customers an ample view of the streets. Havoc and Darius took up their posts outside the entrance, Havoc asked Roy to get him a sandwich to go, and then he and Roy were making the line to order.

They were awkwardly silent, and Ed had never felt this kind of discomfort around Roy—Roy was easy to be around, easy to talk to, and yet there was something sharp and hard between them now, some kind of boundary that wouldn’t let them get close. It didn’t help that every time Ed stepped even an inch too close in an attempt to at least lessen the physical gap since he couldn’t do much about the conversational one just yet, Roy would subtly move away from him and put distance between them again.

“I don’t mean to alarm you,” Roy said quietly, head ducked down and voice low so the person in front of them in line wouldn’t hear, “but there are people with their phones pointed at us right now.”

“What?” Ed swung his head around on instinct and, sure enough, there were at least four people in the bistro that he could see trying to subtly angle their phones in their direction without being spotted. One guy in particular wasn’t even trying to make an attempt at being discreet and held his phone up shamelessly. “Well that’s fucking rude,” Ed grumbled, turning back to face the line.

Roy chuckled. “Indeed.”

They reached the front of the line and Roy ordered for himself and added Havoc’s order to go, and then asked Ed to order.

“You have to pay first, genius,” Ed said to him.

“But then I’ll just have to pay twice.” Roy’s smile was silky smooth and Ed had to remind himself that not only were people watching but they had _cameras_ pointed at them, and that was the only reason he didn’t kick Roy in the ankle.

“I can pay for my own damn food, Mustang.” The cashier raised her eyebrow at them and Ed was suddenly afraid that maybe he’d fucked up—what if it got out that Roy Mustang was having lunch with a rude, ungrateful brat? Would that be bad?—but Roy just laughed lightly and turned to her.

“I guess that’s all for me.” He paid and moved on.

Ed ordered his food—a large turkey and ham sandwich with a side of large fries and a large drink and both Roy and the cashier gave him very incredulous looks—and paid. Once they had their food, they picked a table near the windows and without anyone nearby.

“I really wouldn’t have minded paying your lunch,” Roy said mildly.

“Look at it this way.” Ed shoved some fries into his mouth. “I probably paid it with some of your money, so you technically did.”

Roy choked and laughed into his drink. “I suppose that’s true.” He stabbed his salad a bit with his fork before saying, “About the cameras right now—if people make some kind of big deal about it, I have a very capable team that can talk them away. If it really bothers you, we can make sure it never affects you.”

He looked so earnest about this, in an almost apologetic manner. He needed Edward to understand that if he decided to back off and stay out of the public eye that Roy would understand, that he wouldn’t hold it against him.

And Ed needed Roy to understand that he was willing to do this. “What about the next time we’re seen out together in public?”

Roy’s crouton fell from the fork, rolled off some lettuce, and landed on the table. Roy didn’t make a move to pick it up. “Edward…you do realize that—”

“Of course I _realize_.” He took a large chunk off his sandwich and went to open his mouth to continue talking but then remembered— _public_ and _cameras_. So he chewed and swallowed before saying, “I know what I’m doing. I quit my job on Friday and everything.” He glared down at his food; he was still a bit bitter about it, but he knew it would be worth it.

Roy seemed to have completely forgotten about his food; Ed continued to stuff his face.

“You—You did?”

Ed shrugged. “Yeah. Partly because of you, partly because Ling was getting annoying about it. I also talked to Al and he’s fine with moving by himself, and he’s even started to look for a new apartment for me. Something smaller and cheaper, considering I won’t be making as much money anymore. I mean, we’ve got plenty saved up, but Al’s going to be using a lot of it in London. He and Ling are both so weirdly excited about me quitting and not moving—I’m starting to think they _want_ to get rid of me or something.”

“I highly doubt that.” It looked like he was trying his best to contain a smile, but there was something in the line of his shoulders, in the glint in his eye, in the corner of his mouth that easily betrayed how happy he was. “What about you? How do you feel about all of this?”

Ed swirled his fries in his ketchup as he thought. “Well—I’m not ecstatic about having to quit. It was a good gig, but then again, it’s not like I was going to be able to do that forever, right? ‘Specially if Ling had anything to say about it. And I’m even _less_ ecstatic about Al living on his own—”

“Don’t you mean _you_ living without Al?” Roy said knowingly and Ed shot him a glare.

“I thought I came out to have lunch with Roy Mustang, not Doctor Fucking Phil.”

Roy held up an appeasing hand. “Sorry. Roy Mustang, present. Doctor Fucking Phil won’t bother you again.”

“Fuckin’ smartass,” Ed grumbled around his mouthful of fries. “So I’m not super pumped about those things, but—I don’t know, I think they’ll be worth it.”

“You think so?” Roy cocked his head, smiling softly, and Ed— _pathetic, Elric, pathetic_ —felt himself blushing.

“Well when you’re not being a smartass, you’re not half bad.” Ed stuffed more of his sandwich in his mouth. “So, yeah, I think it’ll be worth it.”

“Hmm.” Roy chewed his salad pensively, and Ed wolfed down his sandwich some more and just watched him. “If you’re willing to go public with this—I suppose we’ll have to come up with some kind of action plan. It’ll probably start with getting the rumor mill spinning before I talk about it. We seem to have made some headway in that already. I’ll speak to Breda about it when I get back to the office, but he’ll probably just tell us to start being seeing together in public more. Such as…taking you to the movies, or for a walk in the park, out to dinner…”

He was grinning so widely that Ed thought his face was going to crack.

“Asking me out as a publicity stunt,” Ed muttered. “How fuckin’ romantic.” Ed shoved some more fries into his mouth and said, “How does a wedding sound?”

Roy’s mouth quirked as he tried to restrain a smirk. “Well…it’s quite sudden, but if you’re serious—”

“Fuck _off,_ Mustang,” Ed snapped and—cameras be damned, was anyone even watching them anymore?—threw a fry at Roy and the bastard laughed, picked it up from his lap and ate it. “I meant my friend Rose’s wedding. You remember her?” Roy nodded. “It’s in two weeks. There’ll be plenty of people taking pictures and shit. You could be my plus-one.”

“I never figured you’d suggest your close friend’s wedding as a publicity opportunity.”

Ed moved his head side-to-side in an ambiguous gesture. “Ehhh….more like—Al and Winry will be there and it’ll be a perfect opportunity for you to meet the family.”

And suddenly, Roy wasn’t looking so smug anymore. “Oh. Of course. Right.”

“Don’t worry,” Ed laughed. “Al’s pretty much incapable of hating people. And he’s already super into your politics so you’ll have something to talk about.”

Roy looked a little comforted by that at least, and then—“What about your friend Winry?”

Ed stared at him. He pressed his lips together. He opened his mouth to say something comforting, but then closed his mouth, then opened it again and asked, “You wouldn’t happen to be the praying type, would you?”

Roy’s throat bobbed as he swallowed and he took a sip of his drink, looking a little more uncomfortable. Ed was torn between wanting to comfort him and finding Roy’s nervousness partly adorable and mosttly amusing. He lifted his hand to reach out and squeeze his, but realized that might get the rumor mill spinning a little _too_ quickly, so he just stretched out his leg instead and knocked his boot gently against the inside of Roy’s ankle instead. Roy smiled at him and he knew the gesture was appreciated.

***

Rose’s wedding was held out in the open. It looked like something out of a magazine—flowers dotting the scenery, the greenest grass Ed had ever seen, soft friendly clouds lazily drifting across the baby blue sky. The weather was in that stage of transition between spring and summer and even though the sun was large and bright above them, a cool breeze kept them from sweating, had them keep their coats around their tuxes and dresses.

Ed and Roy had arrived a little late—because Darius had gotten lost and had had to pull over and ask for directions—so they hadn’t had much time for anything other than minor introductions and handshakes with Al and Winry when they took their seats.

“Where’s the food?” Ed grumbled, looking around them. “Aren’t weddings supposed to be full of food or something?”

“That’s the reception,” Al whispered at him. “You shouldn’t have skipped breakfast.”

“You skipped breakfast?” Roy asked him, voice low. The officiant and the groom were already taking their places. The bride should be showing up at any moment.

“It’s not my fault,” Ed hissed. “I had to go pick up this damn tux.”

“If you hadn’t waited till last minute,” Al chided, barely containing a smile. “I had my tux for days and a full meal for breakfast this morning—”

“Shut _up_ , Al.” The music started and a small girl in a frilly white dress came down the aisle, dropping flower petals. “I fucking hate this thing anyways. Wouldn’t be wearing this if I had a choice.”

The girl was followed by a little boy holding a cushion with two gold rings sitting on top of it, then there was a procession of bridesmaids and groomsmen, each couple splitting up at the altar and taking their place at either side. The music changed to announce that the bride was next and everyone got to their feet. Winry was snapping pictures like her life depended on it.

There was a warmth at Ed’s ear and then Roy was whispering, “I, for one, am glad you agreed to wear the tux. You look absolutely ravishing.”

Ed felt his cheeks flood with heat and at a knowing, amused glance from Al they flared up even more, so he kept his gaze trained on the spot where Rose would be appearing any minute now.

Rose came out—and the whole audience took in a collective breath. She was absolutely _stunning_ —the stark white dress looked like it glowed against her brown skin, fitting her slim frame like it was painted on her, gripping her bouquet of pink carnations that matched the pink hair that framed her face. The rest of her hair, dark brown and waist-length was pulled up in an intricate design, and decorated with tiny pink flowers. She was being walked down by a balding man with a thick mustache, a fellow escapee from their cult that had been Rose’s only friend when she was rebuilding her life.

“ _Brother_ ,” Al gasped, reaching back to grip the sleeve of Ed’s coat. “She’s—She looks…”

Ed smiled, looking up at his brother’s face and not being surprised at seeing the tears brimming in Al’s eyes. He couldn’t deny that he was a little misty-eyed too. “Yeah, she looks great.” Which was an understatement, but Ed had never been known for his poeticism. He tried to look around Al at Winry, but Al was too broad and Winry had her back to him anyways. “How’s Win?”

Al chuckled quietly. “I don’t know how she’s still taking pictures. I doubt she can even see the camera anymore.” As aggressive and frightening as Winry was, she had always been a romantic and it didn’t take much to bring her to tears.

Ed laughed into his fist, disguised it as a polite cough so the people around him wouldn’t stare.

Rose reached the altar, took the groom’s hand, and everyone sat down to listen. Ed—uncomfortable in his tux and in a space full of strangers and really, really hungry—started fidgeting, tugging on his sleeve and jiggling his leg.

As Rose started giving her vows—Winry was doing her best impersonation of a waterfall at this point while Al made his best attempt at mopping her up—Roy inched his hand over and covered Ed’s with it, giving it a light squeeze. Ed stopped twitching, looked up at him. Roy was focused on the altar but the corner of his mouth was quirked upwards and Ed smiled to himself, shifted a little in his seat so his shoulder was leaning a bit more on Roy’s arm. Roy’s thumb stroked the side of his hand and Ed suddenly felt extremely comfortable despite the damn tuxedo.

Winry didn’t really weep—there were no sobs or hitching breaths, just trails of tears slipping down her cheeks and chin and neck—but she let out a strange sound that was half-sob-half-laugh when the happy couple exchanged their ‘I do’s and kissed.

Everyone surged to their feet again to applaud and cheer as they turned, beaming, to the crowd before marching back down the aisle.

They had barely disappeared from sight before Ed asked, “So where’s the food?”

The crowd was directed out of the field and to the large entertainment hall that the property belonged to. There was a wing reserved for the reception, with dozens of circular tables, each with a handful of chairs around it. Along the walls were three long tables full of food. The whole wing was decorated all fancy and pretty and Ed felt like he had stepped into a Disney movie.

Winry excused herself to the bathroom to fix her makeup and the three of them were left to find their table, designated by delicate nametags on each seat. To Ed’s delight, it was one closest to the desserts table. He idly wondered if Rose had done that on purpose and remembered to thank her.

“I hope this doesn’t come off as classist, but—Rose is a hotel employee, right?” Roy looked around at the exquisitely decorated hall. “This seems a little…expensive.”

“Her husband’s kind of loaded,” Ed said. He looked down at his nametag and noticed that there were two seats in his place instead of one and Roy didn’t have a nametag, and that amused Ed for some reason.

“Oh?” Roy took his seat next to Ed.

“Yeah. They met at the hotel,” Ed explained, giving Roy a pointed look. But Roy didn’t seem to get it and frowned at him in question. Ed sighed. “Rose’s husband used to go to the hotel. A lot. Often. _Geddit_?”

“Oh!” Roy’s eyebrows shot up into his hair. He cleared his throat and asked, voice low, “Was he…one of yours or—?”

Ed and Al both snorted into their hands. Ed shook his head. “No, not mine. Now, if you don’t mind, I’m about to drop dead in three seconds, so I’m going to get some food. You guys want anything?”

Al asked for some finger sandwiches, Roy asked for some cheese and crackers. Ed gave them incredulous looks and proceeded to the tables to grab three plates and pile them high with food. Other guests daintily taking one or two hors d’oeuvres at a time gave him dirty looks. Ed smiled at them through a mouth full of cocktail weenies.

By the time Ed was finished and balancing his way back to the table, Al and Roy were deep in conversation and Ed narrowed his eyes suspiciously at them.

As he neared the table, he heard Al say, “So you think the healthcare reform is a waste of time?”

“That’s not what I said,” Roy countered. “I am all for the healthcare reform, but it’ll be completely ineffective if it keeps getting stonewalled at every turn. It has the potential to help a lot of people, but only with the support from the right places, and, right now, it’s not getting it.”

Ed groaned. He had known that Al and Roy would at least have politics to talk about—but he hadn’t realized it would be so boring for him to listen to.

Al opened his mouth to reply and Ed stuck a finger sandwich into it.

“Stop talking politics before I bash both your heads in,” he grumbled, stuffing some chips into his mouth.

“Classy as ever, Brother,” Al mumbled around his sandwich.

“Stop talking with your mouth full,” Ed said, mouth full of chips. He could feel Roy’s eyes on him and shoved a plate of food towards him. “Stop staring at me and eat.”

“But you’re just so enthralling to watch,” Roy said, picking up some crackers.

“Oh, _gross._ ” Al made a noise of disgust as he swallowed. “He really is as mushy as you said he was.”

“You get used to it.” Ed shrugged as if he hadn’t just told an outright lie.

Winry came back from her stint in the bathroom, makeup back in its proper place instead of running down her face, and Al got out of his seat to pull her chair out. Her hair was curled and pulled up in an intricate design, and her dress was a rich cornflower blue to go with her bright eyes. She was wearing her mother’s pearls and she looked so much like Aunt Sarah that Ed felt a little pang of nostalgia.

“We didn’t get a chance to speak before,” Roy said smoothly, leaning over the table slightly to get a look at Winry. “It’s very nice to finally meet you, Miss Rockbell. Ed’s told me a lot about you.”

“I could say the same about you,” she replied politely, but there was a hard edge to her tone that had Ed choking on a cocktail weenie.

He shoved the third plate of food towards her. “Food?” he offered, because he lived by the philosophy that no one could be in a bad mood while eating. “I got enough for all of us.”

She rolled her eyes, but she was grinning. “You mean you got enough for you and are just sharing with the rest of us.”

As she nibbled at a bread roll, Roy tried again. “So, Ed tells me you’re studying to be an engineer?”

Winry just nodded, but didn’t look at him. Al—merciful, beautiful Alphonse Elric—chimed in brightly, “She’s already an amazing mechanic. Her grandmother owned a garage, and Win just kind of grew up around it. But she doesn’t wanna just fix cars anymore—she wants to make them now.”

“Not just cars.” Getting Winry to open up when she was being stubborn was more an art than a science, and Al had perfected his technique years ago. “Motorcycles, too. Maybe airplane engines and boats, too. And—well. My pet project.”

Roy leaned forward more and Ed couldn’t tell if he was genuinely interested or if he was just trying to get on her good side. “May I ask what exactly that is?”

Winry shot him a hard look out of the corner of her eye and didn’t respond.

Al, again, saved the day. “It’s brilliant, actually. She wants to get into biomechanical engineering to make limb prosthetics that actually respond to the brain’s signals.”

Roy actually looked impressed. “So, mechanical limbs that move and act like regular limbs? That sounds fascinating.”

Winry visibly perked up a bit and Ed hid a smile behind a sandwich. Usually when Winry explained her ambitions, people wrote it off as “so, robot arms?” and thought it was too fantastical to care about it, so Roy’s response had been the right one.

There was some commotion near the entrance of the hall and they all looked up to see people clapping and laughing and talking animatedly. Through the crowd, they could just make out hints of a long white dress, and then Rose appeared through the people, followed by her glowing husband. She had pulled her hair out of the updo and it hung long and dark down her back now, all the little flowers picked out. The couple started making rounds, going to each table and everyone, and chatting with them, thanking them for coming before moving on to the next table.

Theirs was one of the farthest tables in the hall, so it took a while for Rose to reach them, but when she did, she was still beaming.

“Ed! Al!” she squealed and they both jumped to their feet to hug her tightly. When they let go, they moved aside and Winry surged forward and the girls squeezed each other. “Oh, Winry,” Rose said happily when the separated. “It’s been so long. Thank you so much for coming all the way here. How long are you staying?”

“I’m leaving right after Al’s graduation next week. I’d say that we should hang out but you’re going to be kind of busy with the honeymoon and all, huh?” She wiggled her eyebrows suggestively and Rose blushed.

“So, is it Mrs. Stewart now?” Winry said teasingly.

“Oh, no, I’m keeping my name,” Rose replied. Ed felt a little twinge of emotion in his chest. He’d seen Rose at her lowest, with no identity of her own, her actions and life dictated by a corrupt religious leader—and here she was, getting happily married, with her hair dyed pink, keeping the name she had chosen for herself when she had reinvented herself. “I’m still Rose Thomas.”

Winry gave Rose’s hands a squeeze. “Good for you. I’m so happy for you, Rose.”

“Thanks, Win.” Rose hugged her one more time before moving on to the only one at their table she hadn’t greeted yet. “Mr. Mustang, how nice to meet you.”

Roy was on his feet, taking Rose’s hand and bending down to kiss her knuckles. Ed cast a wary glance at the groom, but he was distracted with his groomsmen.

“Mrs. _Thomas_ ,” Roy greeted with that silky smooth fucking grin of his. “A pleasure. Congratulations on your marriage. The ceremony was absolutely lovely.”

“Why, thank you.” She beamed at him before smiling a little more apologetically. “I’m sorry we didn’t have a proper place setting for you. It was kind of _last minute_ ,” she said, casting a sharp glance at Ed.

Ed held his hands up defensively. “I’m sorry, okay? Besides, it’s not like he needs _another_ thing with his name on it.”

Rose rolled her eyes and noticed the exorbitant amount of food on the table. “Ed, I hope you realize that I have almost a hundred and fifty guests here today. And they all need to eat.”

“You’re the one who put me close to the food table.” Ed crossed his arms over his chest petulantly.

“You’re welcome, by the way.” She shot him a grin before saying to them all, “Well, speaking of a hundred and fifty guests—I’ve still got people to talk to. Enjoy yourselves, all right?” She gave Roy a friendly pat on the arm before moving away again. They all took their seats and Ed resumed inhaling his food.

“She seems so happy,” Al commented. “She’s got that whole ‘glowing bride’ thing going on. It’s so nice to see her like this.”

Ed made an agreeing humming noise through his food.

Winry opened her mouth to say something, caught Roy’s eye, frowned and said instead, “I’m going to get a drink,” then stalked away in her strappy heels.

Roy pursed his lips. “I get the feeling she doesn’t like me.”

Al chuckled. “Winry is—well, she’s Winry. Can’t really begin to describe Winry.” His smile turned fond for a moment before he said, “She doesn’t really dislike people on sight, not like Ed.”

“ _Hey_!”

“She’s actually really loving,” Al continued. “But Ed’s job has always been a touchy subject for her.”

“Not really my job,” Ed elaborated. “She doesn’t mind me doing what I do—she has a problem with the people I do it with.”

“Ah.” Roy frowned and fiddled idly with his napkin. “I suppose maybe I’ll grow on her?”

Ed shrugged. “Maybe. Still waiting for you to grow on me, though, so it might be a while.”

Al flicked his brother in the ear as a reprimand, then stood up. “I’ll go talk to her. Please make sure Ed doesn’t choke from eating too fast.” And then, Al was gone too.

It was just the two of them now and Ed watched Roy’s face as he ate. Roy looked troubled, the crease in his brow thick. It must really have been upsetting him that he wasn’t getting along with someone so important to Ed. For a moment Ed thought about saying something comforting and sympathetic, but then Roy opened his mouth and said, “It’s strange. I’ve never met a woman that didn’t like me.”

Ed smacked a hand to his forehead.

“I’ll just have to try harder, I suppose,” Roy said to himself, popping another cracker in his mouth.

Ed glared at him. “This isn’t even about you getting along with my family, is it? It’s about your incessant need to charm everyone you meet.”

“It’s a real problem, I’ll have you know.” That smirk. That _fucking_ smirk. “Maybe I should see a professional about it.”

Ed rolled his eyes and stuffed a mini quiche in his mouth. Then another.

“Maybe I’m just imagining it,” Roy started, “but does Alphonse seem kind of…smitten?”

“Oh, good.” Ed licked his fingers clean. “’S not just me, then. I keep telling him he’s transparent as hell, but he’s denying it to himself. It’s even more obvious now that Win’s staying with us.”

Al and Winry returned with punch for everybody, and Ed was grateful partly because if he didn’t get something to wash down all the food he’d stuffed in his mouth, he really would start choking; and also partly because he was five seconds away from either punching Roy in the mouth or kissing him stupid.

“So, Mustang,” Winry said suddenly and Ed almost choked on his punch.

Roy turned to Winry like one would a poisonous snake—tentatively, slowly, but showing no fear despite their shaking knees. “Yes?”

Winry assessed him coldly; Roy didn’t flinch. “What kinda car do you drive?”

Roy hesitated; he knew this was a test. “A Sedan.” Winry’s lip curled in distaste, but Roy wasn’t done. “However, my mother had a beautiful Charger when I was young. It got wrecked in an accident, but she’s never parted ways with it. I’ve always wanted to get it fixed up and ask her if I could keep it, but I’ve never found the time.”

There was a gleam in Winry’s eye that Ed knew well. Roy was on the right track here.

“A Charger?” she asked. Roy nodded. “What year?”

Roy grinned. “Seventy one.”

Winry swallowed, focused on arranging her chips and mini quiches. “Well,” she said slowly, “I have been looking for a summer project.”

Ed shook his head in disbelief. Next to him, Roy was already practically preening in his success.

“I could take a look at it, maybe…” She tried to sound nonchalant about it, but then she shot Roy a sharp look and said, “But it won’t come cheap. Parts are expensive, and I’ve got grad school to pay for.”

“Oh, undoubtedly. The car’s worth it though.”

Winry nodded like she approved, and just like that, Roy had won her over.

“Fuckin’ amazing,” Ed mumbled to himself.

Music started playing and people started getting out of their seats to dance. Al took Winry’s hand and led her to the dancefloor and then it was just Ed and Roy again.

‘You do realize that you’re basically buying your way into Winry’s good graces, right?” It’s not like Ed hadn’t done it before himself—whenever he pissed Winry off, it always smoothed the situation over if he bought her a gift. He had noticed the earrings she was wearing were actually the pair he’d gotten her when he’d crashed the motorcycle she’d spent a month fixing up.

“Technically,” Roy agreed. “But I’m also finally getting that car fixed up. Two birds, one paycheck.”

After the song had finished and transitioned into another, Al and Winry came stumbling back and Winry took Ed’s hand to drag him out of the chair. “Come dance with me,” she said. “Al’s a terrible dancer.”

“He is,” Ed nodded.

“I am.” Al fell into the chair Ed had vacated while Winry pulled him along.

“Your boyfriend’s not as bad as I thought he’d be,” she said over the music as the moved to the rhythm.

“I told you so,” Ed grinned as he dipped her.

They danced two upbeat songs together, and then one of the groomsmen cut in and spun Winry away and when Ed turned to head back to the table, he found himself face to face with a laughing Rose. She grabbed his hand and pulled him back into the dancefloor and Ed laughed as they spun around.

Over Rose’s shoulder, he caught sight of Al and Roy deep in an animated conversation. He frowned, just imagining the boring as hell topics they could be discussing. But at least they were getting along.

Al joined in on the dancing again after a while, and Roy found an elderly relative of the groom’s to charm the stockings off of as they danced.

Winry appeared again and Ed handed Rose off to Al to dance with her instead. The groom showed up to take Rose away and Al took Winry from Ed and Ed ended up with a girl he recognized as another hotel employee and all the while, Roy was still dancing with that little old lady and she was blushing like a schoolgirl.

The crowd got very confusing as dance partners were traded around and Ed found himself with an armful of Rose again momentarily before she was spun away by someone else and as Ed looked around to find someone else who was partnerless, a hand grabbed his wrist and tugged him in and he crashed into the very solid and firm chest of Roy Mustang, who had finally parted ways with his girlfriend.

Roy grinned down at him and Ed smiled back up at him and they took each other’s hands to dance and—

The music stopped.

“All right, all right!” a matronly woman started speaking above the crowd. “It’s time for the toasts, then the games, and then we can continue dancing, all right! Everyone take your seats.”

Ed pouted. Roy laughed and led him back to the table.

The toasts were boring—mostly the groomsmen making inside jokes about the groom and laughing boisterously and the bridesmaids tearing up as they talked about how much they loved Rose and how happy they were to see her so happy. Ed zoned out at some point and Roy distracted him with some more finger foods, which Ed figured was a pretty good reason to keep Roy around.

Then they all had to watch as Rose blushed a brilliant shade of red while her husband pulled off her thigh garter, and then the women were all gathered around behind Rose so she could throw the bouquet at them. Winry caught it and let out a bubbly laugh.

Over at the table, Roy leaned over to whisper to Ed loud enough for Al to hear, “Looks like I might be accompanying you to another wedding pretty soon.” Al blushed brightly enough to put Rose to shame.

Once the excitement died down, music resumed—slower this time. Rose was led out onto the dancefloor by the mustached man who’d given her away and the groom’s mother had died when he was young, so he went out with his grandmother who was—

“Look, Roy!” Ed whispered. “It’s your girlfriend.”

“Wow, Ed,” Al snickered. “Looks like your boyfriend is gonna be Rose’s new grandfather-in-law.”

“It’s possible.” Roy got out of his chair and offered his hand to Ed. “So before I’m completely taken off the market, how about we finish the dance that was interrupted earlier?”

Ed looked over at the dancefloor. More people were joining in, couples pressed together and swaying gently, and there were people watching, people with cameras.

“Are you sure?” Ed asked. Wasn’t it too soon to be so public about their affection? They could be seen together, sure—but to slow dance in a crowded room?

Roy just smiled. Ed took his hand and they stepped onto the dancefloor. There was a brief moment where they paused to figure out where their hands would go and Ed ended up in the girl’s position ( _not_ because he was shorter, but because he really doubted Roy knew how to dance from that position and Ed _did_ , okay?) and then they were stepping and swaying in time with the music and the rest of the crowd.

“You’re quite the exceptional dancer,” Roy commented.

“Thanks.” Ed stepped and Roy stepped with him. It was hard to tell which one of them was leading; they just moved in sync with each other. “My mom taught us. Well she _tried_ to teach Al. He didn’t take to it too much.”

“Hmm.” Roy’s fingers dug into his waist, a gently possessive gesture that brought Ed’s body just a hair’s breadth closer to his. “You know, you’ve never told me much about your mother. Or your childhood. You’ve told me plenty about what Al was like as a kid, but I don’t really know much else about your past.”

Ed moved shifted the hand he had on Roy’s shoulder so he could brush his thumb against the side of his neck. “I’ll tell you about her someday.” They spun around as Ed smirked and said, “The day you take me to meet your mom, I’ll tell you about mine.”

“Deal.” Roy bowed his head slightly and Ed thought he was going to lean in to kiss him, but he didn’t—Roy just watched his eyes and smiled at him. Ed’s cheeks burned from the intensity of Roy’s gaze so he looked forward instead, right at Roy’s shoulder. He knew he couldn’t kiss Roy, he knew that would be a bad idea, but Roy was so close and he was wearing that damned cologne again and, God, Ed _really_ wanted to kiss him.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i promised there'd be smut in this chapter but i suck and moved it to next chapter instead because it fits better over there. so. sorry about that. if you hate the whole plot without smutty intermission to this whole fic, trust me, i hate it more than you do. 
> 
> also i'm still pretending i know how american government and stuff works and if you know for a fact that it works in a way that is not how it is depicted here, please keep that information to yourself because i'd like to remain blissfully ignorant of the whole thing.

Within the next week, the pictures got out and suddenly, Roy was the subject of every local news and gossip channel. Usually, Ed avoided those channels and the tabloids and just found out about everything through Al, but now they were both invested in following the story.

For the first couple of days, the story wasn’t much less a story and more a series of questions and speculations. All anyone really knew about the situation was that the very married Senator Roy Mustang had been spotted at a wedding over the weekend accompanied by a mysterious blonde young man and the two had seemed ‘very close’. That was kind of an understatement when you looked at the photo that accompanied the words—a shot of Ed and Roy dancing pressed close together, with Roy’s face angled downwards, eyes soft and mouth quirked into just a hint of a smile. Ed would have said they looked more ‘intimate’ than just ‘very close’, but he wasn’t in charge of things like that.

Ed’s face was mostly obscured by his long bangs and the fact that his own head was also angled downwards, but the smile on his own face couldn’t have been denied. It was weird, seeing himself on TV and in magazines, but at least he wasn’t being recognized on the street yet.

Then more pictures got out—this time of Senator Roy Mustang and the mysterious young man going to lunch the week before, just down the street from the Senator’s office. The pictures were hastily snapped on cellphones, so the quality wasn’t spectacular, but witnesses said that the two had seemed ‘very friendly’.

He and Roy had been reduced to _very close and friendly,_ which Ed found kind of bitterly hilarious.

Everyone was buzzing; they all wanted to know who this strange blonde kid was and what he was doing with the married senator. Interest in Mrs. Mustang’s opinion on the whole thing was also a big topic, but no one could seem to get a word from either her or the senator. Past rumors of their troubled marriage were brought into discussion, but without an official word, they were still just rumors.

Until Julia dropped the bomb. She started out small—finally announcing it to her close friends and family, and the next day a ‘close friend’ of Mrs. Mustang alerted the media that she was pregnant.

Five days after the wedding, Julia confirmed the pregnancy rumors through her public Facebook page. At the same time, she also clarified that Roy Mustang was not the father and that their divorce was in process.

After that, Roy couldn’t evade the press anymore. (Which really meant he’d been biding his time until he and his team had finished circulating all the rumors.)

Seven days after the wedding, Senator Mustang announced that he’d be holding a press conference to address the rumors about his personal life. Ed wanted to be there, even if it was just backstage or something, but Roy told him it’s be best if Ed wasn’t seen just yet. The conference would be broadcast live on a local channel, and Ed could watch it on there.

Ed had been almost as much a spectator to media storm as everyone else. He’d taken very little part of it and Roy barely brought it up when they talked, and they hadn’t been able to see each other in person since the wedding. Save for a chat with Heymans Breda about cleaning up Ed’s social networks in case the press found out his name and searched for him (one barren Facebook page with a few dozen friends he barely knew and a couple of pictures Al and Winry had tagged him in; Breda had told him it was perfect), Ed was kept at a distance from the media proceedings—which is probably exactly what Roy wanted.

It irritated Ed that Roy thought he was protecting him by keeping him away from it, but at the same time, he knew he’d probably screw something up if given the opportunity, so maybe it really was for the best if he had as little to do with it as possible.

On Saturday morning, eight days since the wedding, Ed and Al sat on their couch in their pajamas to watch the conference. Winry was still sleeping in the guest room—she had refused to get up early on a Saturday morning and had asked them to DVR the conference so she could watch it later on. Amelia the cat curled itself on the back of it, tail brushing against Ed’s neck, and Al’s other cat Timmy was getting scratched on Al’s lap. Ed was biting his fingernails and trying to breathe evenly. He hadn’t gotten much sleep last night.

As if Roy could feel his anxiety from across the city, he got a text saying, **Everything is going exactly as we planned. Once it’s all out in the open, it’ll be easier. I love you.**

Ed shot him back a quick text saying, **i love you too, good luck** , but Roy wouldn’t get it till later because he was currently walking up the small stage, set up with a tiny table and a microphone, and three chairs. He sat in the middle one, Hawkeye and Breda took the ones on each side of him. Havoc, who had led them all in, stood off to the back, keeping a watchful eye on the crowd.

Hawkeye stood up, took the microphone, and in her characteristic short, clipped words introduced Roy, told them he would explain why they were there, and then after he’d finished he would answer their questions. She sat back down, put the microphone back in its place and Roy leaned forward and began to speak.

“Recently, there has been a rather large confusion over a certain series of events, beginning with pictures of me and a young man sharing a dance being spread, and following with my wife’s pregnancy and divorce announcement. I’m here to explain the situation regarding my own personal life, so no one has any misunderstandings.” He paused for effect, cleared his throat and continued, “About a year or so ago, my wife Julia and I began to feel a certain strain in our marriage, as many couples do. We tried to get counselling and support, and one idea suggested to us was that we open our relationship and see other people—in a fully mutual understanding, of course. We thought this would bring us closer together, but, in the end, it ended up with us finding people we loved more than each other.”

There were murmurings from the crowd, shuffling noises, buzzing whispers, and Al pulled Ed’s hand away from his mouth before he chewed his fingers bloody.

“Julia is expecting a child with her boyfriend, the matters of our divorce are almost fully settled, and then she will be going to live her new life with him and their child, and I could not be happier for her. Our separation has been a painless one, and she and I still remain close friends. As for my own life, I’m currently in a relationship with a charming young man and I’ve never been happier.”

Ed swallowed, feeling his stomach jump at the admission. If he weren’t so nervous, he’d be smiling.

Roy paused again, surveyed the crowd for a moment, and then said, “Now that I’ve told you the story, I will be taking your questions.”

There was a clamoring as everyone started speaking at once, until Roy pointed at someone in the crowd and a voice off-camera asked, “Would you mind telling us the name of your new fling?”

“Gossip rags,” Al scoffed under his breath. “Who the hell calls them ‘flings’?”

Roy grinned. “His name is Edward, and he’s my boyfriend, not a fling.”

Ed’s stomach was going to tie itself into such a knot that no amount of surgery could ever get it untied.

“There have been some concerns,” said another, more business-like voice, “about the age difference between you and, er—Edward. People are saying he’s almost _inappropriately_ young.”

“I don’t see why it’s inappropriate,” Roy frowned. “He is almost twenty-three years old. Yes, the age gap is a little wide, but Edward is still a responsible, fully consenting adult. He drives, he pays taxes, he has a job, and the age difference doesn’t bother him or me.”

“How did you and Edward meet?” someone called out and Roy’s jaw twitched, almost imperceptibly. Whether it was at the question or because they had asked without being pointed at, Ed wasn’t cure.

“Through a mutual friend of ours,” Roy responded.

Al chuckled. “It’s not the truth, but it’s not a lie.” Ed found himself laughing too.

“Senator Mustang,” a woman started, after being pointed to, “do you really expect us to believe that there isn’t any sort of tension between you and your wife—or, soon-to-be-ex? She is pregnant with another man’s child, and that doesn’t bother you in the least?”

“It doesn’t.” Roy’s tone had gone flat now, eyes cold, and Ed knew the question pissed him off, but his voice was as calm as ever. “Not in the least. Julia has always wanted to start a family, but I always felt I was too focused on my career for children—which was one of the things that put a strain on our marriage. It’s kind of ironic in a way—we started seeing other people in an attempt to fix our relationship, and it worked. Just not how we wanted it to. Julia and I are closer than ever. We are still very good friends and we care about each other immensely. I couldn’t be happier for her. She’s getting what she always wanted, and I’m just sorry I stood in the way of that for so many years. I’ve met her boyfriend and he’s a wonderful man, and she’s met Edward and they get along terrifically. There’s no spite or jealousy anywhere, and it’s something I am hugely grateful for.”

Ed couldn’t see the woman’s face, but he could tell from the smug lift of the corner of Roy’s mouth that she had been disappointed by the answer.

“Senator,” someone else began, “how prepared do you feel you are to face the prejudices of now being an open and out gay senator?”

Roy stared. Hawkeye stared. Breda stared. Havoc stared and Ed could see he was putting up an awful fight against bursting into laughter.

“I—I’m sorry,” Roy said. “I don’t think I understand your question. I am not now, nor have I ever been or will be, an out gay senator. From the beginning of my career, I have made it explicitly clear that I am a bisexual man. I never kept it a secret, and I’ve been facing prejudice for it ever since. So, I think the answer to your question is that I am completely prepared to continue facing it, since I’ve been doing it from the beginning.”

“But you were married to a woman the whole time,” the same reported elaborated. “Surely that made it easier to hide.”

“I wasn’t _hiding._ ” Roy was getting angry again, but he kept it reeled in, kept it under control, took a breath to keep himself from snapping. “When I married my wife, I was a bisexual man. But she was never a shield or a shroud to hide behind or to protect me. The fact that people found it easier to ignore my sexual and romantic orientation because I was married to a woman is not my problem, it’s theirs. They could pretend that I was heterosexual to make me seem less offensive to their conservative views, but that doesn’t mean that my identity disappeared. However, you’re probably right—I will be facing a greater amount of prejudice now that I’m with a man and have made it impossible for them to ignore. But I am still prepared to face it, and I will continue facing it.”

Ed was so in love with him that he felt like it was going to burst out of him.

Roy answered a few more questions, then announced he was done for the day, and he, Hawkeye, and Breda were led out of the hall, Havoc close behind.

Al switched off the TV and took a deep breath. “Wow. That went a lot better than expected.”

“He was amazing,” Ed muttered, still staring at the blank TV screen.

“Careful, Brother,” Al teased, nudging Ed in the shoulder. “You’re drooling.”

“Fuck off.” Ed shoved him back and Al laughed, but then his expression turned serious.

“You know now it’s your turn, right?” Al asked sympathetically. “At some point, you’re gonna have to come clean about your escort days before they find out first and throw it in Roy’s face.”

Ed sighed. As much as Roy had tried to protect him from the media storm, he knew that it couldn’t last. He’d have to deal with it head-on, and it wouldn’t be pleasant. But after watching Roy act so calm and cool in the face of such ridiculous and insulting questions, knowing Roy would put up with that for him, that Roy could endure such things and would help him every step of the way—it made Ed feel like it could be the easiest thing in the world.

***

A few days later, as Ed tried to figure out if the material the chess pieces he was glaring at was flammable, he searched long and deep for that unconditional, pure love he had felt for Roy after watching him on TV. He knew it was there, somewhere deep inside of him, but he couldn’t fucking find it right now.

“Hey, Ed.” Julia’s bright voice suddenly filled the kitchen and Ed looked up from where he was glaring down at the chessboard to smile at her. She was in workout clothes and her soft hair was done up in a high ponytail. “What are you boys doing?”

“I’m playing chess,” Ed said. “Roy’s being an asshole.”

Across the table from him, Roy snickered. “How am I being an asshole?”

“I’ve got a bunch of pawns and you’ve captured almost all of my strongest pieces!” Ed snapped. “And you keep putting me in check! This is my first time playing and you’re not even going easy on me!”

Julia made a disapproving noise as she opened the fridge. “Roy, play nicely. You always get so competitive when it comes to chess.”

“I do not!” Roy protested. “I just know how to play.”

With a water thermos now in her hand, Julia came over to look Ed’s shoulder. She surveyed the board with a frown, then shot a glare at Roy. “This is a massacre, Roy.”

“You see!” Ed stuck his tongue out at Roy. “Even Julia agrees with me. You’re an asshole. She’s just too nice to say so.” He moved his pawn and Roy subsequently captured it, smirking smugly the whole time. “You suck.”

Julia leaned down and covered her mouth with her hand as she whispered into Ed’s ear, “Sacrifice your rook to his knight. It’ll leave his queen open to your bishop.”

Roy frowned. “Wh-What was that? What did you just tell him?”

“I was calling you an asshole quietly because I’m too nice to do it out loud,” she said with a cheeky grin.

Ed moved his rook into position and Roy moved his knight to capture it. With a grin, Ed slid his bishop into place and held up the white queen figure in Roy’s face. “Ha!” he exclaimed and turned to high-five Julia.

Roy stared at them in open-mouthed horror. “And to think, at one point I thought you two would never get along. Yet here you are, teaming up against me.”

“Sorry,” Julia giggled. “Now finish kicking Ed’s ass so you can start a new game and actually _teach_ him how to play instead of just beating him to feed your ego.” Roy pouted and Ed really wanted to hug Julia. “I’m going to the gym. Oh! Before I forget, can I borrow Havoc tomorrow?”

“Hmm, I think he has a date.” Roy pursed his lips in thought. “I could call him and ask, but I don’t know how available he would be. What do you need him for?”

“I went to the market yesterday and got harassed by some reporters,” she said sourly. “I need to go shopping for maternity clothes, and I know I’m going to get swarmed again. I’d just feel a lot less anxious if I had someone with me, but Ricky’s busy.”

“Why don’t you just go shopping for maternity clothes after you move?” Ed suggested helpfully. “It should be a lot less stress-inducing.”

“She likes to have everything meticulously planned out and prepared months in advance. She gets anxiety otherwise,” Roy replied before turning to Julia. “Could you go next weekend? I’ll make sure Havoc is free if Ricky is busy again.”

Julia pouted but raised a conceding shoulder and nodded, and Ed was suddenly struck with an idea.

“I’ll go with you tomorrow,” he said and Julia turned a surprised look at him, so he grinned back. “Yeah. I can put my goons to good use. They’ve been pretty useless so far.”

“I can hear you!” Darius boomed from the living room and Ed rolled his eyes.

“We’ll come with you and make sure they don’t get too close. And Al can come with us. He’s got a much better fashion sense than I do.”

“What are you talking about?” Julia frowned. “You dress wonderfully.”

“Because Al picks out all my clothes for me,” Ed admitted, shooting a glare at the amused look on Roy’s face before turning back to Julia. “Whaddaya say?”

Julia squeezed his shoulder, smiling brightly. “That sounds wonderful. Thank you so much, Ed. I’ll text you. See you boys later.” She took her thermos and with a last wave and smile, went out the door.

“Your brother picks out all your clothes for you, does he?” Roy asked, barely containing a smirk.

Ed narrowed his eyes. “Most of the time, yeah. But only in recent years. In high school I had a tendency to wear leather pants everywhere.” That wiped Roy’s smirk right off his face and Ed felt a little thrill of success. “I really loved those pants. They were _really_ tight. My ass looked amazing in them.”

Roy’s throat bobbed a little as he swallowed.

Ed tapped his chin thoughtfully. “Hmmm…I think I might still have them somewhere in my closet. I’ve filled out a little since high school, so they’d be even tighter on me, but I’m pretty sure they still fit…”

Roy dropped his face into his hands. “I was just teasing you, I really don’t deserve this torture.”

“You’re also being an asshole with this chess game,” Ed added. “So I think you kind of do.”

“Point taken,” Roy sighed. He raised his head and looked at Ed with smoldering eyes. Ed squirmed under the gaze. “I’m taking Friday off of work to finish moving in to the condo. You should come over.”

Ed fiddled with the white queen piece in his fingers. “Friday’s Al’s graduation. I was gonna take him and Winry out to dinner afterwards.”

“That sounds nice.” Roy reached over and took Ed’s free hand in his, interlocking their fingers together and rubbing the side of Ed’s thumb with his. “How about Saturday? We could go see a movie and then…I can give you a tour of my new home.”

Ed wanted to crawl into Roy’s lap right now. He wanted to bury his fingers in Roy’s hair and kiss him hard, wanted to cling to him as Roy pressed him down onto the table and sent chess pieces scattering everywhere. He wanted Roy to fuck him so hard he’d be left with rook-shaped bruises on his back.

They had spent some time in the last week together, hanging out in Roy’s house to avoid the press, going out to eat sometimes, talking on the phone at night—and it was all really nice. Ed had never actually dated anyone before, but he was certainly enjoying it so far. But he did miss Roy’s hands on him, though, missed being kissed in other places that weren’t just chaste hello and goodbye kisses, missed the feeling of Roy’s skin against his, missed the taste of him. It was a new kind of torture having Roy so close so often and not being able to touch him like he wanted.

Now it was just seven days between him and Roy’s bed. Or couch. Or floor. Or wall. Ed wasn’t going to be picky at this point.

“Yeah,” he muttered. “Sounds great.”

“Good.” He lifted Ed’s hand to his lips, left a soft kiss on his knuckles, and let it go so he could move his knight. “Checkmate, by the way.”

Ed growled and swept his arm over the chessboard in frustration, scattering pieces over the table and floor. Roy laughed.

***

Darius waited with the car while Ed and Al went up to the door and rang the bell. When Julia opened the door, she was slipping her coat over her shoulders and beamed at them. She leaned forward to kiss Ed’s cheek in greeting and then turned to Al and—paused.

“You know, if I had known that getting divorced and pregnant meant being escorted to the mall by two handsome young blondes, I would have done it a long time ago.” Julia shook Al’s hand and said, “Julia Hastings, pleasure to meet you.”

Al—face slightly pink—took her hand and shook it gingerly. “I—er—Alphonse Elric. Nice to meet you too, Miss Hastings.”

“Julia.” She winked and then hooked her arm through Ed’s as they walked to the car. “Roy wanted me to tell you that he’s sorry he couldn’t be here to say hi. There was a little emergency with Gracia.”

“That’s Hughes’ wife, right?” Ed asked in concern. “Did something happen?”

“Oh, everything’s fine.” Ed opened the passenger’s side door for her and she greeted Darius brightly. Ed got in the back with Al and she continued, “Maes took her and Elysia out to a park, but he got a call from the precinct and had to leave in a rush. He called Roy to pick them up and take them home.” Julia pulled down the visor and checked her lipstick in the mirror as Darius pulled out of the parking and onto the street. “It’s such a shame. Maes absolutely dotes on those two, but he’s been so busy on this case that he barely has a second to breathe, and he’s been on it for almost _three months_.”

Al stiffened in his seat and Ed cast him a curious glance.

“Do you know what case he’s working on, Julia?” he asked, keeping his tone conversational.

Julia flipped the visor up again. “Oh, Maes is looking for that serial killer that escaped some time ago. That Barry the Chopper guy. Have you heard of him?”

A chill ran down Ed’s spine and he was suddenly very grateful to be sitting directly behind Julia so she couldn’t see his face.

“It’s been on the news,” Ed muttered. Al’s eyes were on him and in the rearview mirror, Darius caught his gaze. Ed turned away from the both of them and looked out the window. “Hope Hughes catches that bastard soon.”

“Oh, me too. At least he hasn’t hurt anyone yet, so—small blessings, right?”

Ed swallowed and refrained from telling her that the reason they hadn’t found Barry yet was _because_ he hadn’t hurt anyone and left a trail of evidence to follow. He also refrained from telling her that Barry wouldn’t be hurting anyone yet because the only one he really wanted to hurt was sitting behind her, so it might be a while before he was caught.

Al, noticing Ed’s surliness, engaged Julia in a conversation about her work, which let Ed stew for the rest of the car ride.

Darius drove quietly to the mall Julia said and after he had parked, Ed got out, still feeling a little unnerved, but not in such a bad mood anymore. He had been expecting a few photographers or journalists to greet them at the entrance, but no one was paying them any mind. Only a few cast them curious glances, but Ed guessed it was mostly because Darius was the size of three full-grown men and looked like he belonged in a circus side-show.

Next to him, Julia looked a little skittish, casting wary glances all around her. She linked her arm through Ed’s again and said in a quiet voice as they walked, “I never know when they’re going to show up. They probably don’t know we’re here yet, but it won’t take long till they get wind of it and then they’ll be crawling out of the woodwork. They’re like cockroaches.”

“Then let’s hurry up before they show their nasty roach faces,” Ed grumbled and Julia gave his arm a reassuring squeeze.

The maternity clothes boutique was on the second floor. Darius said he would wait outside and Ed and Al went in with Julia, who looked around pensively.

“Let’s see…I’m only two months along…but I’d really like to get enough clothes for the first trimester. Maybe five months?”

“How big is a five month belly?” Ed asked.

“Don’t they have…like…fake bellies? To wear so you can see how the clothes are gonna look on you?”

Ed looked at his brother incredulously. “How do you know that?”

“I watch a lot of romcoms.”

Julia chuckled at the exchange and waved over one of the employees. They talked for a minute, Julia described what she needed, and the girl led her along to the right section.

What happened for the next fifteen minutes was Ed hanging around as Al gave Julia lots of fashion advice—“This cut is going to make you look really boxy, trust me.”; “This shade will look great with your skin tone, though. Even better with the tan you’ll get living in Costa Rica.”; “That blouse is too baggy, it doesn’t have any shape.”; “You know what would look great with your figure? A romper—you’ve got the legs for it.”; “You can’t go wrong with a maxi dress, especially if you’re pregnant.”; “Julia, look at this pattern!”

If the whole pharmaceutical thing went down the drain, at least Al had a solid future as a fashion expert.

Ed shot Roy a text. **al and julia r bffs now. thought u should know**

After five minutes of Al and Julia discussing if salmon or rose was better—they looked the same to Ed, but he didn’t say anything—his phone vibrated.

**I suspected that would happen. Al is very charming.**

Ed narrowed his eyes at his phone. **stop perving on my brother u sick fuck.**

**the charm clearly runs in the family, then. love you darling. have fun.**

Ed rolled his eyes, cheeks hot. **love u too, u shit.**

Once Al and Julia had accumulated a good mountain of clothes, Ed helped them carry it to the dressers. There were small couches to sit on and they sat down—each with a pile of clothes that Julia couldn’t fit into the dressing room with her—to wait for her to change.

“Hey, Brother,” Al said quietly and Ed turned to him. “I know you don’t wanna talk about it…but maybe you should tell Roy what’s going on.”

Ed swallowed. He really should have expected Al to bring this up the second they got a moment to talk privately. “Al, you know I can’t—I mean, Ling said—”

“Ling’s not your boss anymore,” Al said firmly. “And I know he has your best interests at heart, and I love Ling and I’m very grateful for everything he’s done for you, but…this changes things. You of all people know how paranoid Ling can be.” Ed snorted because that was one hell of an understatement if he’d ever heard one. “I think his fear is clouding his judgment.”

The dressing room door opened and Julia stepped out sporting a new blouse and a sour look. “You’re right, Al. It does make me look boxy.”

Al smiled at her. “Told ya. You should try on the green button-up I showed you.” She nodded and disappeared back into the dressing room and Al turned back to Ed. “Ling has difficulty trusting people, but you trust Roy, don’t you? You should tell him what’s going on, ask him if it’s a good idea for you to talk to his cop friend about it.”

Ed looked at Al like he had grown a second head. “You want me to talk to a _cop_?”

Julia came out in the green blouse, her green eyes standing out even more in her soft face. Al gave her a thumbs-up and told her to put it in the ‘keeps’ pile.

“What are you scared of, Ed?” Al asked, sounding a little annoyed now. “What do you think he’s going to do? Throw you in jail or something?”

“Go after _Ling_ , maybe,” Ed snapped. “That’ll be one hell of a way to repay Ling for everything he’s done. Setting a fuckin’ cop on his tail.”

“If this Hughes guy wanted to go after Ling, he could’ve done it a long time ago, using Roy as an excuse.” Al fixed his brother with a stern look. “You know stuff about this case that the police probably don’t. You were _there_ , you _escaped._ You know this guy, and maybe you know something that’ll help them catch him. Then you can stop looking over your shoulder when you walk down the street and you can get rid of the bodyguards and I don’t have to worry myself sick after I leave and Ling’ll get off your back.”

Ed didn’t say anything. Julia came back out in the romper Al had suggested and Al had been right—she did have the legs for it. She seemed really excited to be wearing something that showed off her legs so much; she usually dressed a little more conservatively and this was such an exciting change for her, she said.

“I’m not even telling you to go talk directly to Hughes,” Al continued after Julia had disappeared again. “Talk to Roy first. If he thinks it’s a good idea to talk to Hughes, you should consider it. And even if you don’t talk to Hughes—you trust Roy, right?” Ed bit his lip and didn’t meet Al’s gaze. “He should know what’s going on in your life. I know Ling asked you not to tell anyone, but—Roy really loves you, Ed. And you can’t expect him to not be concerned about why you’re followed by bodyguards everywhere. He’s only stopped asking you about it because you asked him to, but that can’t go on forever. He loves you and he’s going to be worried about you, no matter what you tell him. He deserves the truth.”

Julia came out again in her original clothes. “Could one of you be a dear and get the salesgirl for me? I want to try on the other clothes and I need some of those fake belly things.”

Al got to his feet. “I’ll go get her.”

After he’d disappeared back into the store, Julia turned to the mirror and lifted her shirt a bit, turning to look at her stomach from different angles. “I can’t stop staring at it, you know?” Julia said, voice bubbly. Ed tried hard to smile enthusiastically, but his talk with Al had put him in a sour mood again. “I can’t believe how much I’m showing already—I’m barely two months along and I look enormous!”

Ed frowned at the slight rise of Julia’s belly. It was mostly still flat towards the top, only swelling out a bit at the bottom. Hardly ‘enormous’, but Ed knew it was better to keep quiet about that than argue it.

“You picked out names yet?” he asked instead.

“Veronica if it’s a girl, after Ricky’s sister.” She pursed her lips, running her hand over the swell. “Haven’t chosen a boy name, though. But I think it’s going to be a girl.” Her smile turned soft, fond, a gently curled wisp of her lips. “I’ve always wanted a girl.”

Like that, with her light brown hair spilling over her shoulder, and that delicate smile on her pink lips, the sparkle of pure love as she looked at her own stomach in the mirror—Julia suddenly and painfully reminded Ed of his own mother and he had to look away.

“What’s with the face, Ed?” Julia said and when he turned back to her, she had pulled her shirt back down and was looking at him with a frown. “You’ve been moody since we got here. What’s up?”

Ed shrugged. “Just…personal stuff, y’know? Don’t really know how to explain it.”

She cocked her head at him. “Whatever it is, Al’s probably right.” At Ed’s raised eyebrow, she added, “You should talk to Roy about it. Don’t worry, I didn’t catch the whole conversation, just the beginning.” She smiled reassuringly at him. “I don’t like eavesdropping, so I just tuned you guys out, but I did hear Al trying to convince you to talk to Roy about something. Whatever’s bugging you, Roy would want to know what it is so he can be there for you.”

Ed wrung his hands in his lap, bit his lip as he stared down at them. “I guess I just don’t want to worry him,” he admitted quietly, bangs covering his face.

“Too late for that.” He looked back up at her in surprise, and she just shrugged. “I asked him some time ago why you have bodyguards hanging around you all the time, and he got this look on his face—the one when something’s troubling him and he doesn’t want to admit it, you probably know which one I’m talking about—and just told me he didn’t know. I also asked him how you were handling the whole ‘going public’ thing. He told me about how worried he was for you and if the pressure would get to you and then he got all self-conscious and started wondering if maybe someday it would get too much for you but you wouldn’t tell him and end up resenting him or something.”

Ed’s jaw was slack. “He—really?”

“He puts on a lot of masks, Ed, but you and I both know he’s vulnerable. He’s only strongest when he knows all his chess pieces are in their place—and he has no idea what to do with you.” She gave him an amused look. “You terrify him, Ed. That’s part of why he loves you so much, but it also leaves him very defenseless. Not knowing what’s going on in your life or in your head is going to drive him crazy. I promise you he’ll worry a lot less if he actually knows what’s happening.”

Ed snorted. “I can’t say I agree with that last part, but…I’ll think about it. Thanks, Julia.”

Al came back with the salesgirl and arms laden with three fake belly harnesses. Ed burst out laughing at the sight of them and insisted on trying on the biggest one. Julia put on one of them too and posed with Ed so Al could take pictures.

Al said he was going to send them to Roy and Ed wondered when the hell those two had traded numbers and why he hadn’t known about it.

Half an hour later, Ed and Al were helping Julia lug her bags out of the store. Five months’ worth of clothes was a lot heavier than Ed would have figured.

Outside the store, Darius was waiting on a bench. He gave them a concerned look and said, “I hear there’s some kind of commotion outside. I talked to a security guard and he told me some paparazzi have taken station outside the entrance and aren’t being let inside. Our best bet is to go out one of the side entrances. It’d be best if I could bring the car around, but I’m not supposed to leave your side,” he said to Ed.

“I can get the car,” Al offered but Ed said, “No.”

They all looked at him and Ed took a deep breath. “I’m gonna have to face them at some point. I’m gonna have to get used to them, aren’t I?”

“It might be good for Roy if people saw that you and I are good friends,” Julia added in. “I doubt many people believe the divorce was fully amicable, so seeing us together might be good publicity for him.”

Ed wondered if thinking about Roy’s image before everything else would ever become second nature to him like it seemed to be to Julia. “Are you sure you’re gonna be okay with the swarm?” he asked her.

“Yeah. I’ve got three strong men by my side. It’s when I’m alone that they unnerve me.”

Darius beamed. “I’ll keep ‘em off of you, miss. Now, let’s go. Keep close.”

Ed stayed close on Darius’ heels and Julia linked her arm through his as they walked. Al—taller and broader than a younger brother had any right to be, if you asked Ed—kept behind Julia and it felt like the two of them were in a protective sandwich. Darius could use his size clear a path and Al could get between them and anyone who got too close.

Ed kind of overestimated the amount of cameras there would be—there were only about half a dozen, each paired up with a reporter armed with a microphone or recording device. But just because there were few didn’t mean that they weren’t insistent. They clamored around the little group, shoving their recording devices in Ed and Julia’s faces, shouting questions, trying to be heard over their competitors. Ed could barely make out their words, but some of them got through.

“Mrs. Mustang, are there any hard feelings between you and your soon-to-be-ex-husband?”

“Edward, what are your opinions on what people are saying about the large age difference between you and Senator Mustang?”

“Mrs. Mustang, is it true that your pregnancy was just a device to get Senator Mustang to divorce you?” (Julia’s fingers tightened their grip on Ed’s forearm at that one.)

“Edward, how do you feel about people saying that this move might cost Senator Mustang his career?” (Julia squeezed his arm again at that one, but for a different reason.)

They were just repeated questions from Roy’s press conference, things he had already answered. They were trying to get one of them to say something that contradicted Roy’s responses so they could use it against him. It made Ed’s blood boil.

The only one that answered a question was Al. When one of the reporters turned to him and asked, “Who are you? Are you the father of the child?”, Al squeaked out in embarrassment, “No! I’m Ed’s brother!”

The questions overlapped until they were nothing but a roar in Ed’s ears and he followed Julia’s example by keeping his head down and just following Darius’ footsteps, trusting him and Al to keep the vultures away. Darius was an extremely effective intimidation machine—growling and sneering at the reporters, swatting hands away from the pair, using his beefy arms as a barricade to make sure no one got close.

They reached the car and made a beeline for the doors, stuffing the shopping bags in the backseat and getting in. Ed and Al took the back, shopping bags piled up between them, and Julia ducked into the passenger’s seat, still keeping her head down.

Once Darius had pulled out of the parking space—careful not to run any over swarming reporters—they all breathed a collective sigh of relief.

“Fucking _buzzards_ ,” Julia spat. “Oh, forgive me, I don’t usually swear—but they get me so _frustrated_.”

“Where were they coming up with those questions?” Al asked incredulously. "Roy answered half of them already!"

“Out of their asses, I think,” Ed grumbled, rubbing his temple. His first experience with the paparazzi and he had survived. It had been uncomfortable and irritating, but he’d made it out without punching anyone in the face or cussing someone out on cameras. He classified that as a success. “Nice job with the reporters, Donkey Kong. You looked like a pro.”

Darius snorted and it sounded like a bull. “C’mon, kid. That was nothing. Before working with Yao, I was part of Rihanna’s security detail.”

Ed’s eyes widened to the size of saucers. “You used to work for _Rihanna_?”

The rest of the car ride consisted of Darius grumbling answers to Ed’s multitudinous questions about the daily life of Rihanna. His interrogation would have put those reporters to shame.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry this is so late. it's super long, longer than any other chapter i've posted, so maybe that'll make up for it??? it also has some smut which might also make up for it??
> 
> i've decided that i'm not going to keep up the regularly scheduled updates because it's stressing me out and i have classes and shit to deal with so i'm just gonna go posting them as i finish them. i promise i'll try not to have ridiculous time gaps between updates like three weeks or a month or something. follow my [writing blog](http://calawrites.tumblr.com) so you know when the next update is coming (or maybe i'll just surprise-drop them a la Beyonce hmmm).
> 
> note for this chapter: there is a scene where ed recalls being attacked and it includes being drugged. please read with caution if that triggers you. also, the barry the chopper i use here is the fma 03 barry, who is vastly different from brotherhood barry. for one, he's not as lovable. so if you haven't seen fma 03 and you think barry is kind of OOC here, that's why. he's not OOC, you're just thinking of the wrong barry. :)

“Do you have a habit of falling asleep during all movies?” Roy asked, chuckling.

“No.” Ed yawned, still drowsy from his nap on Roy’s shoulder in the theater. “Just the boring ones.”

“What do you consider to be a not-boring movie?” He reached out and pulled Ed’s head down so he could reclaim the position on Roy’s shoulder he’d used in the theater. They bounced slightly with the motion of the car, but Ed still found the perfect spot to rest against. “What’s your favorite movie?”

“Kind of a tie between _Die Hard_ and _Moulin Rouge_. Leaning more towards _Die Hard,_ but mostly because I’ve had a crush on Bruce Willis since I was a kid.” He laughed. “Maybe I just have a thing for older men.”

Heinkell made a disgusted noise from the front seat. “Could you keep the flirting to a minimum while I’m within hearing range?”

Ed scowled at him in the rearview mirror. He straightened up and turned to Roy. “Thanks for taking me out of the apartment today, by the way. It’s nice to get away from Al’s moping for a while.”

Roy frowned. “Didn’t he graduate just yesterday? Why is he moping?”

Ed rolled his eyes. “Winry just came over for Rose’s wedding and his graduation, but she went back to L.A. this morning. He’s been whining since then. Usually, I’d try to be more comforting, but he absolutely refuses to admit that he’s in love with her and there’s only so much I can do unless he does.”

Roy chuckled. “I’m sure he’ll realize it at some point. He’s very bright, and it’s plenty obvious to the rest of us.”

Ed pressed closer to Roy’s side. “She told me to tell you, by the way, that she’ll be back in a month or so, and she’s going to hold you up on that offer to let her fix up your car.”

“The offer still stands.” Roy wrapped an arm around Ed’s shoulders and stroked his arm. “We’re almost there. I really hope you like my new place.”

Ed refrained from commenting that as long as it had a horizontal surface to throw Roy down on, he’d probably love it. He almost did say it, loud enough for Heinkell to hear, but decided to have some mercy.

Roy’s new condo was much more modest than his stylish house, but it looked very comfortable and homey. It looked more like a small townhouse sandwiched between other small townhouses. It didn’t exactly scream ‘a very rich California Senator lives here’. Roy wouldn’t be hosting any swanky dinner parties with the other uppity, stuffy politicians in a house like this, and Ed supposed that was a good thing.

Suddenly feeling much more awake than earlier, Ed practically kicked Roy out of the car as soon as Heinkell had parked it. “Don’t wait up, Lion King!” he called out before slamming the door shut.

“Excited, are we?” Roy teased, leading up the steps to the front door.

“It’s been over a _month_ , Roy,” Ed practically growled. He bit his lip as Roy fished the keys out of his coat pocket. “I am very young with a very high sex drive and my body is used to having sex on a regular basis. I have _needs._ ”

Roy finally pulled out his keys, deftly unlocked the door and stepped inside, quickly followed by Ed. He barely had time to re-lock the door behind them before Ed was shoving him up against the door and craning his neck up to kiss him.

“Wouldn’t you like a tour?” Roy gasped once Ed released his mouth.

“I’m going to _kill_ you,” Ed hissed. His hands curled into the lapels of Roy’s coat, he arched his body like a cat, pressed himself along the length of Roy’s neck as he attached his lips to Roy’s neck. “Actually,” he muttered after sucking hard on the skin there, “I would like a tour. You can show me the bedroom first.”

He pulled away to look up at Roy’s face, found Roy’s eyes smoldering as they watched him. Ed grinned, a wicked, animalistic edge to his smile, and tugged at Roy’s coat as he moved away from the door, pulling Roy along with him. He didn’t actually know where he was going—had only caught a brief glimpse of the room before assaulting Roy’s mouth—so he had to look over his shoulder before he tripped over something. A cursory search of the room proved two things: 1) it was the living room and 2) there was no need for the tour after all.

“Oh, hell.” Ed tugged on Roy’s coat some more, grinning even wider. “Fuck the bedroom. There’s a couch right here.” He led Roy to the couch, finally let go of his coat, and fell backwards onto it, legs splayed out, head angled back to bare his neck, looking up at Roy through his eyelashes.

It didn’t take much seduction, though, because Roy was ripping his coat off his own shoulders in less than a second and dropping onto the couch on top of Ed in the next—knee in the gap between Ed’s spread legs, one hand gripping at his waist, the other hand cradling the back of his head and angling it so he could claim the expanse of Ed’s neck with his mouth.

Ed grabbed Roy’s shirt, probably leaving wrinkles in the soft fabric—Roy had worn a button-down and slacks to their date and it had been the most casual Ed had ever seen him dressed. (Seeing him in various stages of undress didn’t really count.) He started unbuttoning Roy’s shirt as Roy licked a line up his throat, making shiver.

Roy pulled away, brought his face close to Ed’s. His shirt was already half off and he said, “Why are you working on getting me naked when you’re still wearing your coat?”

“Maybe because I’m actually getting shit done while you’re slacking off as usual?” Ed smirked. “You have a problem with my clothes, _fix it._ ”

And then Roy’s mouth was on Ed’s and his hands were shoving Ed’s coat off his shoulders and down his arms. Ed got his hands tangled in the sleeves for a moment, but he yanked them out and got back to work on Roy’s shirt as Roy worked on his.

“Is that your phone or are you just _very_ excited?” Roy asked in amusement and it was only then that Ed realized his phone was vibrating in his pocket.

“ _Dammit_ ,” he swore as he pulled it out. Roy didn’t let this faze him—he just kissed down Ed’s throat and continued working on getting his clothes off. Ed’s phone screen was taken over by a picture of Ling with chopsticks up his nose and he frowned as he answered and put the phone up to his ear. “Kinda busy, Ling.”

“Are you planning on spending the night there?” Ling asked without preamble, sounding harried. Roy licked along Ed’s collarbone and Ed swallowed.

“Yeah, that’s the plan,” he replied.

“Keep in touch with me, okay?”

Ed snorted. “Yeah, right. I’m probably gonna be a little distracted.”

“Edward, I’m _serious._ ” Ling never called him ‘Edward’. It was almost enough to let Ed forget that he was now shirtless and Roy was currently kissing down his exposed chest now. “Either you text me every hour, letting me know you’re okay, or I’m going to order Heinkell to break down your boyfriend’s door.”

With a gentle nudge to his shoulder, Ed let Roy know to stop for a minute. “Ling, are you _kidding me_ right now?”

Roy frowned at him in concern. Ed reassured him with a squeeze to his arm.

“I am so far from joking right now, Ed. This is the first time you’ve been alone with one of your clients outside the hotel in a long time and I don’t trust—”

“ _He’s not a client,_ ” Ed snapped.

“He used to be!” Ling barked back. Ling never yelled. “I don’t _trust him_ , Edward—and you are in _his house_ , alone, spending the whole damn night, and I don’t know what he’s like or what he wants.”

Ed’s anger flared up like a bonfire. He wanted to spit out that Ling should already know what Roy’s like, considering he’s been spying on Roy for _months_ already. But beneath Ling’s frustration, Ed could hear a genuine tone of fear. And Roy was still watching him.

“Ling, come on, man, you’re being ridiculous.” Ed ran a hand over his face. Al had been right. Ling’s paranoia was getting the better of him. “You know that if something happens—”

“I know that you can take care of yourself. You could probably fight him off if he tried anything and if you start screaming, Heinkell will hear you and come in to help, but—Ed, I just—” Ling sighed and there was nothing on the other line for a while until his voice came through again, quieter this time, “I’d just feel a lot better if you kept in contact with me, okay? Just a text every hour or so. That’s all I’m asking.”

Ed paused. It was hard to forget that Ling was younger than him, that Ling was a kid just as scared as Ed was. If the situations were reversed, Ed couldn’t deny that he’d probably be even more neurotic than Ling was being. And, in the end, he did owe Ling. He’d probably owe Ling all his life; he could do this one small thing if it reassured him so much.

“Yeah,” he muttered. “Yeah, okay. I promise.”

“Good.” Ling let out a relieved little breath and then said, in a much brighter tone, “I’ll leave you to it. I’ll expect dirty details later!”

And there was the Ling Ed knew and loved.

He didn’t even dignify that with a response and hung up on him.

“Everything all right?” Roy asked, reaching up to brush Ed’s bangs out of his face.

“No.” Ed frowned at him. “Now I’m more naked than you are, and that’s not right. Gotta fix that.” He tugged Roy in by his loose shirt, brought Roy in to kiss him again, pulled off the garment, and tossed it aside.

“Ed…” Roy started but Ed dug his fingers into his arms—a silent request to _not ask_ —and Roy gave him one last somber look before conceding, and dove in to kiss Ed again.

He lowered his body down, wrapped his arms around Ed’s hips. Roy pulled him up, made Ed’s knees press closer against him, and then he was lifting him up, and Ed’s legs wrapped around him on instinct. “I changed my mind,” he said, voice only slightly strained. “I think I will show you the bedroom.”

Roy carried him like that around the couch and to the hallway, fingers digging in hard into the meat of Ed’s ass to hold him up and Ed realized—

“What the _fuck_ are you doing?!” he shrieked. His arms were wrapped around Roy’s neck to hold on, phone still in hand, and he glared down at Roy’s smug face. “Carrying me around like I’m some goddamn little kid! The fuck do you think I am, some tiny little pipsqueak ant that you can just carry around everywhere?”

“Hardly,” Roy smirked.

They reached the bedroom door—open, thankfully—and Roy carried Ed in before depositing him on the mattress and watching him bounce before crouching down to kiss the planes of Ed’s stomach. Ed finally let go of his phone and pushed his fingers into Roy’s hair, pulled him up till Roy was leaning over him again, and tugged him down to kiss him.

“Don’t hold back this time, okay?” Ed murmured as Roy kissed along the side of his face while working on his belt.

Roy pulled away to frown at him. “What do you mean?”

Ed sighed. This night was already having a lot more conversation than fucking, in his opinion—and not even the dirty type of conversation, which would have at least been fun—and he really didn’t want to add on anymore. “Whenever we were together before, it always felt like you were kind of holding yourself back. I don’t really know why—maybe you were just used to fucking someone that couldn’t take as much or something, but it always frustrated me. Just when it felt like you were about to show me what you were _really_ capable of, you always pulled back again. I never said anything, but—”

Roy was gaping at him. “I—well—I was always a bit wary because I was paying you, and I—well I didn’t know if you would go along with something because you actually wanted to or because you felt you had to, so I just—”

Now it was Ed’s turn to gape. “ _Are you fucking kidding me?_ ” He reached up and smacked Roy upside the head. “You absolute fucking _idiot._ All that time, _all that damn time—_ we could have been—ugh!” Ed smacked him again. “You moron! Do you think that I would’ve just lain there and taken something if I didn’t like it? Do you think I wouldn’t have said something or, hell, just punched you in the face or something?”

Roy frowned. “Telling me you would have punched me in the face doesn’t exactly make me feel bad about holding back.”

“I hate your friggin’ guts,” Ed grumbled as he pulled him down for a bruising kiss. “Have we reached the agreement that I’m here because I _want_ to and that you’re going to fuck me with the intention of depriving me my ability to walk in the morning?”

Roy’s grin was suddenly sharp and wicked, making Ed’s knees tremble. “Oh, _absolutely._ ”

Roy’s teeth on Ed’s lips were unforgiving, and so was the hand shoving its way down the front of his pants and rubbing him roughly, making a sharp cry tear out of Ed’s throat.

“I was hoping for something a little more romantic tonight,” Roy whispered into Ed’s throat, tugging on Ed’s dick to make him whine. “But you’re right—it’s been a month, and that’s a lot of pent-up frustration to work out. Besides.” He pressed a gentle kiss to the corner of Ed’s jaw. “We have all night.”

Ed’s pants were ripped off, pulled off with his boots, and then Roy’s mouth was on his inner thighs, hands pushing his legs apart, teeth scraping against the soft skin.

“You know what I’ve just realized, love?” he murmured, licking along the hem of Ed’s boxers. Ed sat up on his elbows to watch him. “You’re all mine. _All_ mine, no one else’s. No one else is going to touch you anymore.”

The rough pads of Roy’s fingertips trailed upwards, traced patterns over his thighs. “I wasn’t allowed to leave marks on you—it was against the rules.” He sucked on a spot near the top of Ed’s thigh, boxers bunched up. “But now we make our own rules, and I can mark you up all I want.”

His lips latched on harshly, teeth worrying the skin as he sucked on it and Ed gasped, head thrown back, hips arching up towards Roy’s face. When Roy pulled away, there was an angry red mark on his thigh, and it would heal over purple and wouldn’t fade for days.

Roy asked Ed to get the lube from the nightstand drawer, and then he was pulling off Ed’s boxers. Ed was now fully naked and Roy still had his pants and shoes on. He was about to say something but then Roy was flipping him over onto his stomach and there were fingers rubbing against his ass and Roy’s teeth were on his shoulder blades leaving even more marks—Ed got the feeling he’d be leaving the next morning looking ill with all the bruises on his skin.

Roy’s fingers pushed inside and Ed gasped against the bed sheets. They moved, twisted, stretched, and scissored and it was exactly as promised—rough and harsh and hungry and _perfect._

The rest of Roy’s clothes were wrenched off and then Ed was being tugged closer, back pressed up against a firm chest and then turned onto his side. One hand pulling his leg back, the other gripping his hair tight enough to hurt, and Roy was pushing inside, careful enough that it didn’t hurt but hard enough to leave Ed panting.

“Do you have _any idea_ ,” Roy asked in a low rumble, fully seating himself inside, “how much I’ve wanted this?” Ed’s fingers scrabbled against the sheets for purchase as Roy thrust into him once. “To have you in my own bed. To fuck you the way I want to fuck you. To mark you up and make you mine.” His words were punctuated with thrusts and bites to Ed’s shoulder and neck.

“You’ll fall asleep in _my_ bed, Edward,” he whispered, breath wet and warm on Ed’s ear. “You’ll wake up next to _me._ I never complained, I kept my mouth shut, I never said a word, but I was always jealous.”

Roy’s grip in his hair was so tight that Ed was seeing stars and his dick was twitching against his stomach.

“I always got so angry, wondering who else you’d fucked that day, or if you were going off to fuck someone else after you left me.” Roy’s hips jerked against Ed’s, thrusting shallowly but with enough force to have Ed almost bouncing. “Do you know what I thought about doing every time you left and I started wondering if you were going to go fuck someone else? Do you know what I wanted to do?”

Ed had one hand wrapped around Roy’s bicep, holding onto him as the other anchored him on the bed sheets. It took him a moment of Roy’s silence to realize that he actually had to respond to the question and he tried to shake his head, but that made him almost cry out from pain because of how hard Roy was holding his hair, so he just gasped out, “ _No_ ,” and bit his lip.

“I wanted to run after you and drag you back into that hotel room.” He licked along the shell of Ed’s ear and blew on it. “Wanted to pin you to the bed and fuck you till you forgot how to breathe, till you forgot everything but my name—wanted to fuck you so good that it ruined everyone else for you.”

There was a line of kisses strewn down his jaw and then Roy was murmuring, “Did you ever think of me, love? When you fucked those other people—did you think of me instead?”

Ed let out a little whimper, fingers tightening on Roy’s arm and said, “I s-said your name once—I felt bad; the guy—he was pissed—”

Ed suddenly found himself face down on the mattress, Roy’s weight pressing him down, fucking into him like he’d never done before and Ed’s cries were muffled into the pillows. Roy didn’t talk anymore after that, but the hot breaths and heavy pants in his ear were more than enough for Ed. The way Roy’s hands gripped him, the way his hips jerked against him, the deep rumbling growls from Roy’s chest that vibrated down Ed’s vertebrae—it was strong and heady, it was raw and almost animalistic, and Ed had never had sex like this before.

***

Ed texted Ling while Roy used the bathroom. It was one of four texts he’d sent that night between rounds— _i’m ok; still ok; pretty sore but ok; so much better than ok._ He left the phone on the nightstand. The next text he’d send would probably be telling Ling that he was going to sleep for real and that he’d text him in the morning. There were a lot of things Ed would so for Ling, but waking himself up every hour or so to shoot him a text was not one of them. He settled against the pillows, shuffled the sheets over himself and yawned.

Roy came out of the bathroom, looking like sex on legs—naked save for a loose pair of boxers, covered in hickeys, and hair sticking up in all directions—and gave Ed a serious look before he asked just as seriously, “Do you think I’ve put on a few pounds?”

Ed barked a laugh. “Are we at that point in our relationship already?” he chuckled. “No, honey, those pants don’t make your ass look big. That’s not a grey hair, you’re just imagining it. I don’t care if you get fat, I’ll love you no matter what.”

Roy bent down, picked up a stray sock, and threw it at Ed’s face. Ed caught it, laughing, and tossed it on the floor again.

“No, you little brat—that’s not what I meant.” Roy climbed into the bed, pulled the sheets around him, and tugged Ed close to his side. “I’m just concerned that I’m getting out of shape.”

“Why do you care so much?” Ed turned his face into Roy’s collarbone, fingers wandering absentmindedly over his stomach. There was still the smooth definition of his abs, but Ed did notice they looked a bit softer than the last time he’d seen Roy shirtless. “You’re still the hottest Senator in all of California.”

“My good looks have gotten me very far, Edward. I need to maintain them,” he said, and Ed rolled his eyes. “And besides, I now have a sexy young lover I need to keep satisfied. Can’t just let myself go and have him get bored of me.”

“True.” Ed kissed a hickey on Roy’s chest. “I’m only here for your abs and your hot ass.” Roy chuckled and kissed his hair. “I thought you worked out. And you diet—sometimes. How come you’re worried about being out of shape?”

“Because I _haven’t_ been working out lately,” Roy sighed, leaning further into the pillows. “My job’s gotten so much more demanding recently, and with Maes being busy all the time—he’s my workout partner, he usually gets me off my ass when I don’t want to do it.”

“Lazy ass,” Ed mumbled, but he had gotten very tense when Roy mentioned Maes. “I—uh—Julia told me about Hughes. Like, why he’s been so busy. Chasing that serial killer and stuff. She told us that that’s why you weren’t at the house on Sunday when we came by, ‘cause you had to pick up his wife and kid ‘cause he got called to work.”

“Hmm.” Roy closed his eyes, leaning his head against the top of Ed’s. “Yes. He got a call about a lead. They’re not just looking for the killer, apparently. They’re also looking for his last victim.”

Ed swallowed, his blood turning cold.

“Oh?” he asked, trying to keep his voice calm.

“Yeah. Before he was caught, he tried to kill someone, but they fought him off and tied him up and then called the police. By the time they’d arrived, the person was gone. Now this man has developed some kind of obsession.” Roy stroked Ed’s arm lazily, up and down from shoulder to elbow. “From what I understand of what Maes has told me, Barry the Chopper is intent on finding and killing this person before moving on to other victims. Maes believes that if he can find the target, he can find Barry. Or at least protect them. But every lead has turned up nothing, including the one from Sunday.”

Ed didn’t say anything. This was the golden opportunity to tell Roy, to explain everything—to confess his fears and nervousness, to seek comfort and help. Maybe Al and Julia were right, maybe Roy could make it better, just by knowing.

Or maybe Roy would develop the same paranoia as Ling. Ed didn’t think he could deal with that coming from the both of them. Roy would be worried—but he already was. About the pressure of the media, about the bodyguards—even about the phone call Ling had made earlier that night. And he had of course noticed Ed texting between rounds, had opened his mouth to ask, but closed it again. He just didn’t ask because Ed kept telling him not to, kept insisting that Roy just trust him.

Roy had been trusting Ed all this time; it might be time to repay the favor.

“Pretty odd pillow talk to be having,” Roy chuckled.

Ed straightened up, sitting up on the bed and dislodging Roy’s arm from around him.

“Ed?” Roy asked softly, and already Ed could hear the concern, the worry. No matter what he said or didn’t say, Roy would worry about him, because Roy loved him.

“Roy, I—” He took a deep breath, turned around so he could face Roy and said, “I think it’s about time I told you why I have bodyguards following me everywhere.”

Roy’s furrowed brow smoothed over in surprise. He sat up straighter to pay attention and Ed swallowed once before starting his story.

***

It took an infuriatingly minimal amount of time for Roy to convince Ed to talk to Maes Hughes. Maybe it was because Ed had already been considering it, or maybe it was because Roy made a good argument (it was his _job_ to argue _,_ after all), but whatever the reason was, it wasn’t because Ed was whipped to hell and one pleading look from Roy’s deep dark eyes made him crumble. It was absolutely _not_ because of that.

At least he put in some conditions, because he had to assert himself. Or something.

First condition, Roy had to be there. He could act as a buffer in case things got tense. That one had been easily agreed to.

Second condition, _Ling_ had to be there. That one had caused hesitation, but Ed insisted that if Ling refused to go with him, then Ed wouldn’t do it. Ed didn’t trust the police, even if it was his boyfriend’s best friend. If Ed was going to talk to a cop, he would do it with Ling at his side.

It would just be a matter of convincing Ling after that—and it took a lot more cajoling and bargaining than it had taken Roy to convince Ed. In the end, with a lot of insisting that this was _a good thing_ and that _it will help_ and some yelling and calling each other names, Ling had caved in.

Ed had also brought up the topic of Martel during their argument, which had made Ling wince, but he’d agreed to get Reed to take her off the job. Ed having come out of Roy’s house with nothing more concerning than a smug grin and a slight limp seemed to tide Ling over into trusting the man a bit more.

Ling had picked the place, a fancy little restaurant in the heart of the city, known for its shadier clientele. Ed had been there with him before on a few occasions. Part of his (unofficial) job description included being Ling’s arm candy when Ling needed to soften someone up for one of his business deals. Ed had always tuned out the conversations, focused on his food, and tried to charm the other party whenever Ling gave him a nudge. Ed had never been one for outright flirting and flattery, preferring to let his actions do the seducing, but Ling had never complained about his methods.

There had been one mortifying occasion when he and Ling were just getting up to leave and an older, graying gentleman had recognized Ling and come up to greet him, then asked how much it would be to take Ed home for the night. Ling had brushed him off with a polite dismissal, but he’d grumbled about some people’s _fucking lack of respect_ the whole ride to Ed’s apartment.

All Ed could think about as he entered the restaurant with Ling (Lan Fan having disappeared into the shadows to watch from a distance as usual) and was led to the table where Roy and Hughes were already sitting was that if something like _that_ happened again tonight—in front of _Roy_ —Ed would probably end up punching them in the face.

As Ed and Ling approached the table, they saw Hughes excitedly shoving what looked like photographs under Roy’s nose and babbling while Roy sipped at his water and looked very bored. He brightened up considerably when he noticed Ed, and once Hughes saw them too, he shoved the pictures back into his coat pocket, face becoming stony.

Roy got out of his seat to greet Ed with a kiss on the cheek and shake hands with Ling, who was smiling as carefree as ever, but Ed knew him well enough to recognize the hard edge to it.

They sat down and Roy introduced them to Hughes, who shook their hands as well, smile kind when he looked at Ed, but turning a little cooler when he turned to Ling. He looked older than the pictures Ed had seen—dark scruff peppered with grey and hazel green eyes tired behind thin glasses, but the laughter lines around his mouth gave him a youthful expression. Ed had listened to Roy talk at length about how annoying and loud and obnoxious Hughes was, but Ed couldn’t see any of that right now. He was all business.

“So, Ed,” Hughes began as the waiter came by to bring Ling and Ed some water. “It’s nice to finally meet you. Roy talks about you so often, I feel like I already know you.”

Roy cleared his throat pointedly and Ed suppressed a grin. He remembered that he and Roy had even gotten the chance to meet thanks to Maes Hughes, so he should be grateful. And Hughes was as important to Roy as Winry or Ling were to Ed, so he should make an effort to befriend the guy.

“Yeah, same here,” he replied. “You’re one of Roy’s favorite topics to talk about, actually.”

Roy narrowed his eyes at Ed and Ed smiled at him.

“Well, I’d love to hear about that,” Hughes chuckled, “but…we seem to have a more pressing topic to discuss tonight, Roy tells me.”

Ed shifted uncomfortably. He’d given Roy an overview the other night, just enough to explain the situation, but it was still something he hadn’t talked about in years. He hadn’t _had_ to talk about it until recently. “Yeah…right…uh—maybe we should get our food first? Before we get into that and all…”

“Right.” Hughes picked up his own menu as he said, “Roy mentioned you were usually more agreeable with food in you.”

Ed shot an icy look at Roy, who was suddenly very determined to pick the right dish from the menu. “Did he now?”

“Well, he wasn’t lying,” Ling added, also very focused on his menu even though he always ordered the same thing.

_Fucking traitor,_ Ed spat at him in his mind.

The waiter came by to take their orders and once he’d left with their menus, the table got very quiet. It was painfully awkward—there was a very distinctive mutual distrust between Ling and Hughes, and even though Ed wasn’t as cold to him as Ling was, he still wasn’t completely comfortable around the guy.

Roy, serving his purpose as buffer, started a mundane small talk with Ling, who responded politely if not a bit curtly, and the small talk carried them through to the arrival of their food, and then they didn’t need to keep the chitchat up as they ate.

Halfway through his plate, Hughes decided to speak up again. “So, Ed.” He wiped the corner of his mouth with a napkin. “Tell me, what’s your story? Roy gave me the general gist of the situation, but I’d like to hear the details, if you don’t mind.”

Ed glanced at all three men, who were all watching him expectantly. Hughes’ eyes were kind and warm, the hazel reminding Ed of Al’s. There was something fatherly and protective in the way he held himself—in the way he spoke and the way he looked at you. He felt like the kind of man that should be trusted, but Ed was still a little wary.

“Well, the story doesn’t really start with me,” he said around a mouthful of ravioli, and pointed with his fork at Ling, who now looked very irritated at the prospect of having to stop eating to speak.

Ling, having slightly more decency than his friend, swallowed his bite of food before starting to talk. “So, this was about three or so years ago. I was just starting to get the feel of leading the company and I was still working out a bunch of kinks—of various kinds.” Ed snorted. Roy and Hughes looked bemused. “This was before I put all our new policies and regulations into effect—in fact, a lot of them were put into effect _because_ of this guy.”

Ling swung his fork around as he told the story. “We get a call from a new client, and he asks us to send someone to a motel of his choosing. He didn’t ask for anything in specific, so I just send him one of our girls. She comes back, saying that some lady had been in the motel room and had told her she wasn’t what the guy was looking for, and sent her back. Next week, same guy calls, asks for someone else, we send a different girl. Same thing happens. It happens three or four times within the next two weeks—none of the girls actually get to see the guy before they get sent away. We try asking him what it is he wants specifically, but he just says that he’ll ‘know it when he sees it’. Eventually, someone suggests that maybe he’s not looking for a girl. So we send Ed.” He gestured at Ed and said, “Your turn,” before diving back into his plate.

Ed didn’t feel the need to stop eating while he told his half of the story. “So I get to the motel, ready to be brushed off and sent back like the others, but when the lady opens the door, she asks me to turn around, she checks me out and then says I’m ‘perfect’ and lets me come inside.” Ed swallowed his bite of food and stared down at his plate as he struggled with the memory of that night. It was fragmented and slippery, the different pieces sliding out of his grasp. “It gets kind of…blurry after that…”

Hughes hangs on his every word; Ling and Roy eye him in concern, but Ed is too focused on piecing the memory together to pay them any mind.

_The motel room was decorated in warm browns and dark reds. The lights were on, but the room was empty. Ling had told him that he’d be meeting with a man—but the only ones here were himself and the soft-spoken lady. There was a bed and a couch in the room and both seemed untouched. Ed frowned, eyes taking in the whole room. He noticed the bathroom door was closed, so maybe the guy was in there. He started to turn to ask the woman, and then he felt something covering his mouth and nose._

_The smart thing to do would have been to hold his breath, to not inhale, but the surprised gasp he let out made sure he got a nice thick lungful of whatever was on the cloth. He barely managed to raise his hand to lash out before the reds and browns of the room blurred together until everything turned black._

_Waking up was like crawling through fog as thick as mud. Ed didn’t think that what he was doing could even be classified as ‘waking up’. He could hear sounds and if he opened his eyes he might see colors and shapes, but there was still some kind of barrier between his body and the rest of the world—he could tell his skin was prickling from the cold and he could sense something nudging his limbs, but he couldn’t feel any of it in his skin. It felt like his nerves were on vacation, along with his tongue. He could open his jaw, but he couldn’t form words or noises—he couldn’t speak or scream. It felt like he was dreaming. His body felt like it belonged in a Dali painting._

_There was humming. Tuneless, tone deaf humming—like a drunk bee or a sluggish songbird._

_Ed forced his eyes to open and he could swear he heard his eyelids creaking._

_“Oh, you’re awake,” the humming voice said, after it had stopped humming. It was a wheezing voice, like a rocking chair, high-pitched and giddy. It made Ed’s stomach roil. “That’s different. But, hey, it might be even more fun like this!”_

_There was a glint of light off of something. It looked like a star, blinking at him, but he could see a man’s face, he could see a roof over his head, he could dully feel the carpet under his bare skin. He wasn’t outside, so why were there stars twinkling in his vision?_

_There was another glint, this time over the man’s head, and it seemed connected to his hand, to his arm which was outstretched, ready to swing down and with a sudden shot of adrenaline, Ed realized it wasn’t a twinkling star—it was a polished knife. And a big one._

_His muscles still weren’t all aware that they had a job to do, but Ed jolted instinctively, and it caught the man off guard, bucking him off from where he’d been sitting on Ed’s stomach._

_Ed’s mind was suddenly back online, but his body wasn’t responding as quickly as it should have been. He saw the man lunge at him again, a frustrated growl ripping from his throat, and Ed swerved just in time to avoid the blade. His feet were bare on the scratchy carpet and he let them carry him away from the man with the blade, who kept coming after him._

_Years of martial arts and fighting for sport were useless if your mind knew the moves it should make but your body refused to perform them. Ed’s arms lashed out, but the blows were ineffective, he kicked with his legs but none of them landed. The man just kept coming for him, blade swinging, reflecting the fluorescent lights, winking as if mocking him._

_The man’s eyes were wild, his grin was sadistic—Ed realized he was probably about to die._

_The man lunged one more time, giggling hysterically, blade arcing downwards towards Ed’s chest and Ed—reacted._

_His right fist went flying—knuckles taut, full-body weight behind it, elbow locked. His mind was still fuzzy, but there was a single sparkling crystal clear thought among the mist:_ I can’t die here. _Ed knew how to throw a punch, and this one somehow landed perfectly._

_The knife made a dull_ thud _as it hit the carpet and the man crumpled to the ground, unconscious. There was a big red mark where Ed’s knuckles had connected over his jaw._

_Ed staggered. He realized he was only wearing his boxers and he figured the first thing he should do was put his clothes on. But the man might wake up and come after him again—so Ed decided instead to kick the knife far away from his reach, then stumbled to the bedside and picked up the telephone on the nightstand. He yanked and tugged and pulled until it came free from the wall and wrapped the cord around the man’s wrists and ankles tightly and tied it in a knot._

_He found his clothes, pulled them on with some difficulty, and fished his phone out from his pocket. His words were probably slurred as he talked to Ling and demanded he send someone to pick him up at the motel and when he hung up, he heard the man on the ground start mumbling groggily. With a swift kick to the head, Ed shut him up again and made his way out the door._

“That’s probably really fragmented, because I was still drugged up and I don’t remember it properly,” Ed appeased. “But that’s the general gist of it. Once I was out the door, I called the police to come pick him up and after that, I didn’t think I’d ever have to deal with him again.”

“Until the fucker got out,” Ling muttered darkly, casting a brief glance in Hughes’ direction.

Hughes’ eyebrow quirked. “I suppose you blame _me_ for that?”

Ed and Roy tensed, watching their friends stare each other down. Ed wouldn’t be much help if they started going at each other’s throats, but Roy at least might be able to mediate.

“You were warned, weren’t you?” Ling said coolly. “Before he got out, you were warned that he was planning to escape. You could have done something, but you cast it off out of arrogance.”

Hughes’ eyes narrowed. “How do you know that?”

Ling’s grin was mirthless. “Who do you think warned you? I’ve been keeping an eye on that bastard since he got locked up. I’ve got my informants inside the prison, and they all warned me about his growing obsession with Ed and his escape plans. I did everything I could to make sure that guy didn’t get out, but that wasn’t _my_ job, was it?”

“It wasn’t mine either,” Hughes said calmly. Maybe it was because they were in a public space or maybe it was because he had the patience of a saint—or the patience of Al—but he wasn’t nearly as hackled as Ed would expect someone to be under Ling’s accusations. “I’m a detective, not a prison guard. The prison was warned, and it was their mistake not to heed those warnings, but my job is to catch the bad guys, not keep them locked up.”

“From where I’m sitting, you’re doing as well at your job as the guards were doing theirs.”

“ _Ling,_ ” Ed hissed. He’d promised to at least be _civil_ to Hughes, but he had underestimated just how pissed off Ling was about this whole situation.

For his part, Hughes didn’t rise to the bait. Definitely the patience of Al.

“It hasn’t been easy, I’ll admit.” Hughes took a sip of his wine, frowning. “Barry may be crazy, but he’s smart. He’s great at hiding and not leaving a trail—there’s no way to track him down. Our best shot has always been finding his target, but they were even harder to track down.” He glanced at Ed, then turned back to Ling. “But now that I know who and where he is, Barry shouldn’t be too far away. And we could of course help protect Edward.”

Ed scoffed. “The last thing I need is _more_ protection.”

Ling leaned his head back thoughtfully and slowly said, “Actually…”

Ed’s fork fell to the plate with a clatter as he turned to glower at his friend. “Ling, I swear to god, if you decide to put cops on my ass _on top_ of your circus sideshow bodyguards, not even Lan Fan will be able to stop me from killing you.”

Ling raised an eyebrow at him, mouth curling in a small smile, then turned to Roy. “Isn’t he just the cutest thing?”

Roy looked momentarily surprised at being addressed so amicably by Ling, but then he smiled too. “He really is.”

“You can both fuck off,” Ed sneered.

“I try to avoid fucking my friends’ partners, actually,” Ling said casually and Roy choked on his sip of wine. “So, Hughes,” he said, turning back to the man as he was patting Roy’s back helpfully. “A security detail’s not necessary, but now that you have this information, what are you going to do with it?”

Once Hughes was sure Roy wasn’t going to choke to death, he turned a considering look at Ling. “We can canvas the neighborhood Ed lives in, check out the places Ed tends to hang out. Just because Barry’s not making a move doesn’t mean he’s not nearby—his obsession with Ed grew so deep while he was in jail that there’s no way he’s not keeping tabs on him.” Hughes cast him an apologetic glance and Ed’s mouth turned sour. “He’s close, and now that we can narrow down the places he could be, it should be easier to find him.”

“’Should be’,” Ling repeated dryly.

“I have a question,” Roy cut in suddenly, before Hughes could reply to that with something else that might set Ling off. “Does anyone know why he chose Ed? Why he didn’t send him off like the others? Was it just because he was male?”

At that, Ling and Hughes shifted from defensive to uncomfortable, both averting their eyes and shifting in their seats. It was a fair question—something Ed himself had wondered but avoided asking. Now he really wanted to know the answer.

“It’s really not something that should be discussed over dinner,” Hughes muttered, scratching the back of his neck. Ling nodded in agreement. “But—well. The thing with Barry is that he doesn’t care much for the killing. Taking someone’s life isn’t what’s fun for him. What he enjoys is just the act of—ahem—cutting people up. He just likes chopping people up, and they tend to die from it, but his end goal isn’t to kill people.”

“He liked bragging about his victims to the inmates,” Ling supplied. “Apparently he went on in detail about how to cut them up and what it felt like. He didn’t have a lot of friends in prison—all his cellmates kept begging to be changed to a different cell. From what his old cellmates told me—he…he got tired of how soft women were.”

A shudder of revulsion swept over the table. The food in Ed’s stomach had gone sour a while ago. For the first time in a long time, he couldn’t find it in him to finish his meal.

“He wanted someone leaner,” Hughes continued. “Someone with more muscle, but still smaller than him—someone he could overpower easily.”

Ling and Roy winced at Hughes’ choice of words just as Ed snarled, “ _What?!_ Just because I’m small doesn’t mean I can’t take his psycho ass down any day of the fucking week!”

The table was dead silent for a minute. Hughes looked perplexed. Ling and Roy looked at him in shock.

“Ed…” Roy muttered.

“Did—Did you just admit to being small?” Ling whispered, sounding awed.

It took Ed a moment to realize that he actually _had_ just admitted it—and then his mouth was opening to snap something defensive and most likely aggressive when the sound of a cell phone interrupted him.

“Oh.” Roy dug his phone out of his pocket and frowned at the screen. “I’m sorry. This could be important. Please try not to have any violent outbursts while I’m gone,” he added teasingly to Ed before excusing himself. As he passed by Ed’s side on his way to the door, he gave the end of Ed’s ponytail a playful tug and Ed glared down at his half-full plate as he willed his temper down.

“So, Ed.” Hughes’ voice was casual and conversational, smooth on Ed’s frayed nerves. “How’re things with Roy?”

“Er…” Ed cleared his throat, suddenly feeling kind of awkward. “Great, I guess. I mean, I’ve never really dated anyone before so I don’t really have a frame of reference, but I don’t have any complaints so far.” A sudden worry gnawed at his stomach. “Does he have any? Has he said anything?”

Hughes chuckled. “No, no—Roy’s kind of over the moon. I haven’t seen him this head over heels since—Well.” The man gave a wan smile and slipped a piece of steak into his mouth, chewed and swallowed before speaking. “I just wanted to know how you were feeling about it. I worry about him. Roy’s smart but he tends to get a bit blinded by the things he wants.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Ling asked suddenly, startling Ed.

“Nothing.” Hughes shrugged lightly. “I just want to make sure that Roy doesn’t get blindsided by anything unpleasant.”

“Unpleasant like what?” Ed chimed in now, frowning. He’d thought that Ling was just being overly-defensive, but now it definitely sounded like Hughes was implying something else.

“Look, Ed,” Hughes sighed. “I’m sure you’re a great guy, and I don’t like jumping to conclusions or making accusations about people without getting all the facts first, but I tend to jump the gun when it concerns Roy. I’m sure you know what I’m talking about.” That last part was directed at Ling, who narrowed his eyes before turning away huffily.

“From what Roy and Julia tell me,” Hughes continued, “you’re a wonderful person. But that doesn’t change the fact that Roy is powerful, has a decent amount of money, and is handsome. And from what I understand, you’ve recently quit your job and you’re going to be living on your own soon, so I don’t think you can blame me for assuming—”

“ _Oh my god,_ ” Ed exclaimed as Ling burst into laughter. “ _You think I’m a gold-digger!”_

Ling was clutching his stomach, hand over his face. Ed could see tears forming in the corners of his eyes. Ed would have found it amusing as well if he weren’t so _pissed._

“Hey, Ed,” Ling said through his giggles, wiping at his eyes. “How much money did you make last year? Not including my cut.”

Ed sighed. “I don’t remember—something like ninety grand?”

Hughes’ mouth fell open.

“That’s more than you make in a year, Detective,” Ling said cheerily. “Almost as much as your friend makes. So if Ed was after _money_ , the last thing he’s going to do is quit his job. So, clearly, that’s not the reason he’s dating Mr. Mustang.”

“Oh—” Hughes blinked, processing that information. His eyes found Roy making his way back to their table and he straightened up, smoothing the dumbstruck look from his face.

Roy sat down heavily, faced closed off in the way it did when he didn’t want people to know what he was thinking.

“Everything okay?” Hughes asked him.

“Hm? Yes, yes, everything’s fine.” Roy shrugged, easy smile on his face. Ed could see right through it. “Just something about our intern quitting and needing to find a new one.”

Ed and Ling exchanged a look.

“So, what were you guys talking about?” Roy asked.

The three men looked at each other, then away, and then Hughes said with a big grin, “Well, Ed here was just telling me about how he would _love_ to chip in for your gift for Elysia’s birthday this year.”

Roy just looked bemused as Ed and Ling burst into laughter.

***

“Well.” Roy cleared his throat. “That wasn’t awful.”

“Could’ve been worse,” Ed agreed, slouching in the passenger’s seat. He could see the headlights of Heinkell’s car in the rearview mirror, following them. It was nice to finally be in a car with someone that wasn’t one of the two human mountains. “I thought Ling was going to strangle Hughes a few times. Sorry he was such a shit—he’s usually a lot nicer.”

“Don’t apologize.” Roy sent him a kind smile. “He’s clearly very protective of you. I thought it was endearing.”

“I think it’s annoying.” Ed glared at the dashboard.

“I wonder if that’s because you actually find it bothersome, or simply because you’re so used to taking care of yourself that you don’t know what to do when someone tries to do it for you.”

Ed glared at Roy, but Roy was looking at the street instead of him, but he was sure Roy could feel the heat of his gaze boring into his skull. “Ling’s been taking care of me since I started working with him—I’m used to it by now.”

“Ah.” Roy nodded like something had finally clicked in his head. “Then it bothers you because you feel it’s just one more thing you owe him that you’ll never be able to repay.”

Ed stared at him. It really wasn’t fair how easily Roy could read him.

“Did you ever think that Ling all this for you without expecting any kind of recompense? That he just cares about you and wants you to be happy and safe?”

“Oh, great! Look who’s back!” Ed threw his hands up in frustration. “It’s Doctor Fucking Phil again!”

Roy chuckled and let go of the steering wheel with one hand to reach out and stroke Ed’s bangs from his face, let his ponytail slide through his fist. “I’m just saying—I can relate.”

Ed’s cheeks burned at the comment. He took Roy’s hand and squeezed it before stating, “We’re gonna have sex when we get back to your place, yeah?”

Roy’s eyebrows shot into his hair. “I—well. I’m not going to say no, but I wasn’t just saying that to get into your pants, you know that, right?”

Ed laughed and let Roy’s hand go so he could grip the steering wheel again. “You don’t need to _try_ to get into my pants, moron. Pretty sure you’ve got 24/7 access at this point.”

“Well, that’s—” Roy cleared his throat again. “That’s good to know.”

Grinning to himself, Ed slouched down lower into the seat, getting comfortable. They still had about ten minutes of driving left before reaching Roy’s place, and the silence wasn’t awkward, but there was something still niggling at the back of Ed’s mind.

“What was that phone call about?” he asked. “You looked kind of worried when you came back. And don’t give me that intern bullshit.”

Roy’s shoulders tensed and his fingers fidgeted around the steering wheel. “The thing about the intern is true, but the phone call was actually… It’s—well, I don’t want you to freak out, but it was Breda calling to let me know that rumors have started circulating. They’re still rather quiet, just a few whisperings, no one knows anything for sure yet, but—we did know this was going to happen at some point.”

Ed’s mouth twisted bitterly. “It’s about me being an escort, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” Roy sighed. “Please don’t worry too much about it. Breda wants to sit down with you this week and talk about how to handle it, if you’re willing. If you don’t want any part in it, we’ll handle it ourselves.”

With a frustrated grunt, Ed straightened up in the seat. “I already told you, Mustang, I’m a part of this and I’m going to _do_ my part to help you, okay? So stop trying to keep me out to protect me. I let Ling get away with that shit because I have no choice, but I’m not going to take it from you.”

They stopped at a red light. Roy turned to take in the stubborn set of Ed’s jaw, the angry furrow in his brow, the bright glint in his eyes. His gaze turned soft and his lips curved in just the slightest smile.

“It’s so easy to remember why dealing with the media’s crap is so worth it.” The light turned green and he looked at Ed fondly for just another second before turning back to the road. It was those stupid adoring looks that Roy directed at him sometimes that made Ed wonder how he ever resisted jumping the man’s bones for so long.

“Wh-What are you doing?” Roy stammered, and getting Roy to drop his cool composure never failed to make Ed smile.

“Shut up and drive,” Ed snapped as he adjusted himself in his seat so he could twist his torso over the center console and lean over Roy’s lap.

“Ed—Ed, love.” Roy swallowed so thickly that Ed could hear it even from his very low vantage point. “We’re almost there—can’t you wait a few more minutes?”

“Nope.” Ed ran his hand up the inseam of Roy’s slacks. Despite all his protesting, Roy spread his thighs accommodatingly. “This way, you’ll be ready to go by the time we get there.” He cupped his hand over Roy’s still-soft crotch and rubbed lightly, feeling Roy’s content sigh in his own chest.

It didn’t take long to get Roy worked up, and then Ed was unzipping him.

“Try not to get us killed, will you?” Ed smirked as he breathed softly over Roy’s exposed flesh, hardening in his hand.

“If I fail, at least I’ll die happy,” Roy muttered, then used one hand to gently push Ed’s head down.

***

They had decided to walk to the market and back. It’s not like they were buying a lot, and between the three of them, carrying their groceries wasn’t much of a challenge. Especially when Darius could carry twenty of them by himself.

Al kept insisting they buy enough food for at least three, but Ed countered that they were _Ling’s_ pets so it was _his_ job to keep them fed, not _theirs._ Al countered that Ed was a jerk and proceeded to get enough food for three. Ed had given up on trying to stop him.

It happened as they were walking back from the market to their apartment. Al was babbling about how they were going to have to start buying for _four_ once Winry came to stay with them for the summer and how they should really consider getting a softer couch because his back was still sore from having slept on it for two weeks while she took his room. Ed was only mildly paying attention because when Al started talking about Winry, he tended to get very sugary and gooey in both description and tone of voice, and it would probably lead Ed to throw up all over the groceries he was carrying.

The woman was on the opposite sidewalk, walking in the direction they were coming from. Her frame was small and her dress was green. She was so innocuous that Ed’s eyes passed right over her as he walked, but then she paused and looked right at him, and the feeling of eyes on him made him look back at her.

Her brown hair was long, shadowing half of her face, but Ed could still see her mouth, see it when she started smiling.

Ed’s step faltered, but he kept up his pace beside Al.

The woman raised a bony arm and waved at him, smiling that wide Cheshire grin, and Ed’s heart was beating a million miles per hour in his chest.

He should say something. He should let Darius know. The woman may be across the street but if Darius was fast enough, he could probably catch her if she decided to run. If anything, he should at least make sure that they could see her too because there was a possibility he was hallucinating.

The woman lowered her arm and continued walking as if nothing had happened and when Ed craned his neck to look behind them as she walked past—she had vanished. She could have slipped into one of the alleys or she could just have never been there at all.

“Brother, you all right?” Al asked gently, and Ed swallowed. He could feel the cold rush of his blood, knew that he probably looked pale and frightened, because that’s how he felt. Ed was terrified and that had probably been Barry’s intention.

All Barry had wanted to do was let Ed know that he was watching, just like Hughes said he’d be. Barry knew where he was and this wasn’t something that Ed could just ignore and let other people deal with anymore.

“I’m fine,” he said. “Just a little lightheaded. Probably just hungry.”

They got back to the apartment and Ed ran to his bedroom while Al put the groceries away. He pulled his phone out and scrolled through his contact list until he found the most recently added name—Hughes.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _twenty seven years later...._
> 
> i am really extremely sorry for how late this is omg i don't even know what to say. uhh??? this one is extra long to make up for it i guess??? hahah idk i'm just really sorry.
> 
> also i'm doing nanowrimo for the first time ever this year and i'm doing a roy/ed fic for it :) so you should check out my writing blog for info about that (when i get around to posting about it lmao i'm so sorry i suck)
> 
>  **edit:** LOOK AT [THESE](http://elcentric.tumblr.com/post/101831733704/edward-in-hair-clips-nails-me-from-left-field-i) [OHMYGOD](http://silverconstellations.tumblr.com/post/101898777735)

There was a cat tail flicking lazily back and forth, and it brushed against Ed’s chin with each flick, thoroughly annoying the young man trying to read. It was Al’s cat, therefore it was Al’s fault, so Ed pinched Al’s side in frustration.

“What was _that_ for?” Al snapped.

“Your cat is tickling my chin and I’m trying to read. Do something.”

With an exaggerated sigh, Al reached over to pick up the fat gray cat sitting on Ed’s chest. It made a sound of protest at being disturbed from its nap, but Al quickly soothed it with scratches and pets, cuddling it close to his own chest. “You’re the one who let him fall asleep on you.”

“It looked comfortable. I didn’t wanna disturb it.”

“My leg is falling asleep, Brother, could you move?”

“First you bitch at me that reading with the book above my face is gonna screw up my eyesight, then when I find a better position, you bitch at me _again_. I can’t win with you, can I?”

Al glared down at him. “Move or I put the cat on your face.”

"I don’t know why people think you’re the sweet brother," Ed grumbled. "If only they knew that you’re every bit as much of a shit as I am. Maybe more of a shit."

“As if anyone would believe you if you told them.” Al held the cat threateningly over Ed’s head. It let out a tiny mewl, arms and legs dangling languidly. Yellow eyes fixed on yellow eyes, it raised a paw and licked it calmly. Ed glared at its peaceful attitude—the little bastard was probably aware that it was being used as a weapon of war. It probably looked as comfortable as it did because it was fulfilling the role it had been born for.

Before either side could make their next move, a thick bass note started playing, accompanied by a sultry voice and a tickling vibration against Ed’s thigh. It was most likely not the first time a war had been put on hold because of Beyoncé, Ed thought.

Ed hitched his hips up so he could pull his phone out of his pocket. The picture Al had taken of him and Julia at the clothing shop wearing the fake pregnancy bellies filled the screen.

“Hey,” Ed greeted, digging his head further into Al’s lap to hear him complain.

“Hi, Ed. This a bad time?” Julia asked, soft voice sounding even more delicate over the phone somehow.

“Nope, just buggin’ Al. What’s up?” Al flicked him in the ear.

“Oh, good, Al’s there with you. I’m just calling to invite you to my party on Friday. I’m leaving Sunday morning, and my sister thought it’d be nice to hold a little get together with some of my friends and family. Roy’s coming, and I’d really love it if you and Al would come too.”

Something hard and heavy settled on Ed’s chest where the cat had been sitting before—only it was a lot denser than even the fattest housecat. “You’re leaving already?” He hoped he didn’t sound as much like a small child as he felt.

Julia chuckled. “Yeah. Everything’s all settled here—I’m all packed up, Roy’s giving the house over to the new owners next week, and all my business is tied up and finished. If I wait any longer, I’ll be too big to travel comfortably, don’t you think?”

Sometimes Ed found it a little difficult letting people get too far. It had almost torn him to pieces when Winry had moved to LA to study. That was understandable, though—Winry had grown up with him and Al, so of course he would miss her, but he’d only known Julia for a few weeks. Having her leave shouldn’t be hurting him as much as it was.

“Right—that makes sense.” He tried to keep his voice from sounding too sullen, he really did. “We’ll be there.”

“Wonderful! It’s at Roy and mine’s house—er, old house, technically—and it starts at eight. I’ll see you then.”

Ed gave her the cheeriest goodbye he could manage and hung up, mouth twisted sourly. Al was looking down at him, gold-brown eyes worried. He had probably heard Julia’s half of the conversation, being so close, so he probably already knew what was bothering Ed. Even if he hadn’t heard, Al had always had some kind of telepathy when it came to guessing his brother’s moods.

“Brother?”

“Julia’s leaving on Sunday. There’s gonna be a goodbye party on Friday—she wants us to go.”

Al’s mouth tilted in sympathy.

“I—” he started saying, but Ed cut him off with, “Where’s that damn cat?”

“On the armrest.”

“Put him back.”

Al gave Ed an exasperated look, but didn’t argue as he picked Timmy up and deposited him back on Ed’s chest, where he curled up after shooting them both a very confused and irritated look. With one hand, Ed picked up his book and held it above his head while the other scratched the cat behind its ears. He felt its purring in his lungs.

Al’s gaze lingered on Ed’s face for a moment longer before he turned back to the television. He didn’t say anything when he started losing the feeling in his toes.

***

Ed wasn’t exactly a stranger to wealth. When Roy’s too-expensive watch glinted at him, he didn’t react. When Julia’s shopping total had almost reached four digits and she hadn’t batted an eye, Ed didn’t think twice about it. When he rode in Roy’s fancy Sedan, or Ling’s ostentatious Range Rover; when Ling took him out to dinner and showed up in silk suits; when Ed crossed paths occasionally with Reed and his penchant for furs and leathers and gold and suffocating cologne (seriously, whatthe _hell_ did Ling see in that guy?)—he’d gotten desensitized to the extravagant wealth of some people. Especially with the clients he had.

But sitting in the car Ling had given him so Heinkell and Darius could drive him around in the driveway of Roy and Julia’s old house, surrounded by more than a dozen fancy, shiny, expensive cars—Ed suddenly felt a little more nervous.

Roy and Julia weren’t annoying about their money. Roy was annoying in different ways, and Julia was too kind to be boastful or showy. Ling didn’t splurge on luxurious things to show off his money—although that did help him intimidate enemies and competitors—but because he genuinely enjoyed the finer things in life (something that Ed wasn’t sure if he’d picked up from Reed or if they already had that in common before they met). And his clients—well, the very fact that they were his clients showed they had a decent amount of money, so they didn’t really have anything to prove.

Ed himself was pretty well-off. He and Al weren’t like Ling or Reed—they didn’t need to splurge to be comfortable or happy. They had nice clothes and good food. The most Ed had splurged on was a special mattress when taking eight clients a week had proved hell on his back muscles. But just because they didn’t spend on fancy things, didn’t mean they couldn’t afford the occasional luxury or two. They just had different ideas about what the finer things in life were.

“Brother?” Al tried, nudging Ed’s shoulder. “You wanna get out of the car?”

Ed glared at the front door. The shades on the windows were drawn, but the lights were on and Ed could make out the vague outlines of people moving about inside. “Not really.”

"Ed?" Al closed the car door he had been stepping out of and slid closer to his brother. "What's wrong?"

"These people—they're all gonna be a bunch of stuck-up rich country club assholes, I know it."

"They can't all be like that. Julia's not like that."

"Julia _likes_ me. These people are all gonna be looking at me like the homewrecker gold-digging whore that took her husband." Ed glared down at his slacks. He hadn't worn such nice clothes in a while, had only ever worn them when he was working as an escort. For some reason, that made him feel even worse—showing up at Julia's house with her rich family and friends, wearing what was essentially the uniform he used when prostituting himself and stealing nice ladies' husbands.

"You're not here for _them_ , kid," Heinkell said from the front seat. "You're here for Miss Julia."

"Mr. Heinkell's right." Al pat Ed's knee. "Julia wants you here, and Roy's here too. He's the cheating ex-husband and he still had the guts to show up. They can't hate you more than they hate him."

Ed smiled despite himself. "That's true...but that's not my problem, really. It's more—I don't know. These are _Roy's people,_ y'know? The kind he's surrounded by all the time. The rich uppity types. And if I don't know how to deal with them, maybe I shouldn't—"

"I know where you're going with that sentence, and you need to stop right there." Ed had always said Al took after their mom, and it was very evident when he got that stern set to his jaw. "Roy is never going to stop loving you no matter how many rich snobs you piss off or offend. He seems like the kind of guy who hates them just as much as you do—and I'm pretty sure he's pissed off and offended his fair share of snobs. But if you're so concerned about making a good impression, just—" Al waved a hand around vaguely as he thought— "You dealt with rich snobs as an escort, didn't you? Just treat these people as if they were your clients—without trying to sleep with them, I mean."

Ed pursed his lips and thought back to the first time he and Roy had met. Basically what Al was saying was to just do...the _opposite_ of that.

"Yeah. All right." Ed nodded emphatically. "I can do that."

***

There were only about two dozen—maybe thirty—people in the house. They had arrived fashionably late because Al had insisted Ed do _something_ with his hair (which meant washing, brushing, blowdrying, and eventually just putting it up in the same ponytail as always, if only a little softer to the touch), so it couldn't get much fuller than this. Ed found that comforting.

Julia, ever the meticulous host, had been keeping one eye on the door as she entertained her guests, so she was the first to spot them.

"I'm so glad you came!" she gushed as she squeezed Ed's shoulders in a tight hug. Her sweet perfume filled Ed's nose as he squeezed her back. "I really want you to meet Ricky and Christina. They'll adore you both."

Ed tried not to grumble when he noticed that even in her high heels, she had to stretch up to greet Al with a hug and kiss as well.

"Is Mr. Heinkell outside?" she asked once she'd finished squeezing them both.

"Yeah, we told him to come in, but he thought it'd be best to stay outside," Al shrugged.

"Well, he'll have company. Jean's lurking around outside as well, probably leaving cigarette butts everywhere." She waved her hand airily. "Not my problem anymore. I'll leave them there for the new owners to clean up. Now, come on, let's find where our boys have wandered off to."

Julia took Ed's hand in hers and led him through the house, Al close behind. Ed had been here enough times to know his way around, but with the lack of decorations and furnishings and all the people milling about—it might as well have been his first time there. The house had been mostly emptied out of everything, leaving just enough furniture and seats to entertain for the night.

Ed recognized Roy's laugh coming from the kitchen, and when Julia led him through the opening dividing the living room and the kitchen, there he was—leaning against the counter with a beer in his hand, wearing dress pants and a dark blue button-up, laughing heartily. The top buttons of his shirt were undone and his neck was stretched out as he threw his head back and laughed and Ed had to swallow to soothe his suddenly dry throat.

Roy was with two other men, each with a beer as well, and was laughing at something one of them had said. One of them was Hughes, looking dashing in a dark button-up and gray jeans. The other one was—

"Ricky!" Julia called, getting the men's attention. Roy did that thing that he did whenever he saw Ed—stood up straighter, smiled wider, eyes brightening. Ed wondered if he'd ever stop doing that, or if he would ever stop feeling so flustered every time he did it.

Ed dropped into Roy's side like he'd been pushed there, and Roy's arm wrapped around his shoulders as he leaned down for a kiss, and just—kept holding him.

"You must be Alphonse!" a cheery voice said. "Since they don't look like they're going to do introductions anytime soon, might as well do 'em ourselves. I'm Maes."

"Oh! Mr. Hughes," Al beamed. "It's really great to meet you."

“Same here, Al. Seriously, though—call me Maes.” He gestured at the man Julia had draped herself over with his beer bottle. “Have you two met Ricky yet?”

Ricky was a man with sad, drooping bloodhound eyes but a smile full of piano keys—white teeth big and wide. His cheekbones were high and his dark curly hair straggled into his forehead. He wasn’t much of a looker, but the thick laughter lines and wrinkles at the corners of his eyes made him attractive.

Ed wondered if he looked as lovestruck and blissful when he was at Roy’s side as Julia looked when Ricky kissed her hair.

“Ah, you’re the boys who took my darling to buy clothes while I was busy, aren’t you? I’d like to thank you for that.” Ed was too busy being amused by watching how Julia glowed pink at the term of endearment to notice that Ricky was holding his hand out to him, the other still wrapped around Julia.

Al took the man’s hand instead, saying, “It really wasn’t that big of a deal.” He bumped his elbow against his brother’s arm as he pulled away and Ed shook himself out of his thoughts to take Ricky’s hand too.

“Nonsense. Julia was very nervous about going out alone and I couldn’t accompany her, and you kept her safe and comfortable. I’m very grateful.” His words were clear, but his accent was thick and his voice was a rich baritone. Ed could see why Julia was so weak-kneed around him; he even felt himself blushing just a bit.

“Really, Al’s right,” Ed shrugged, not meeting the guy’s eye. He’d probably stutter if he did. “It wasn’t a big deal. It was fun hangin’ out with her—you’ve got a great girl.”

Ricky laughed, a hearty rumbling laughter, and wrapped his arm tighter around Julia to pull her closer. Julia looked like her bones had been replaced with cotton candy. “I certainly do, don’t I?”

“You must be really excited about the baby,” Al chimed in, all boyish innocence and charm. “Julia told us you’ll name it after your sister if it’s a girl. That’s so nice.”

“My sister and grandmother, actually,” Ricky said. “There’s actually a lovely story behind that name, if you’d like to hear it.”

Al looked like he was willing to sit down on the floor cross-legged like a child at story time to hear it.

Ed was paying attention too—mostly because Ricky’s voice was _really_ nice and he wouldn’t mind listening to it for a while—but another, silkier voice murmured in his ear, “Mind if I steal you away for a minute?”

He let Roy pull him away from the rest of the group, taking over a corner of the kitchen near the screen door that led to the backyard.

“If I didn’t know any better,” Roy said, smirking as he hovered the lip of his beer bottle near his mouth, “I’d say you were blushing when Ricky spoke to you.”

Ed let out a sound that was like a growl but also like a huff and that made Roy look even more amused. “Jealous, Mustang? Besides, I think we’ve established Julia and I have the same taste in guys, apparently. And he’s pretty hot.”

They both glanced over at Ricky, who was still holding on to Julia like she was his source of energy and making them all laugh as he told the story of his sister’s name. It probably wasn’t even that engaging of a story, but the man’s voice made it sound like a thrilling tale.

“Hmm.” Roy took a sip of his beer as he watched Ricky. “He is, isn’t he?”

Ed pinched his arm, making Roy jump. “Stop checking out your ex-wife’s new boyfriend in front of me, you sicko!”

Roy laughed. “Now who’s jealous?”

“You’re a piece of shit.”

“Then that makes us equal, love.” He leaned in and pecked the stubborn set of Ed’s lips. “Ah, before I forget: Riza _politely and gently_ reminded me,” (Ed heard the ‘threatened me with various bodily harm’ clear as day) “to tell you that she’ll be contacting you over the week to deal with—well. You know.”

Ed winced. “The whole ‘coming out as a sex worker’ thing? Yeah…I know.” He sighed, looking away for a moment as he tried for the billionth time to be comfortable with the idea of telling the world he was an escort. The billionth time was not any more successful than any of the previous ones. “Any idea what I’m gonna have to do?”

“To be honest?” Roy shrugged. “Nothing. Most likely, the most you’ll be asked to do is agree with whatever she and Breda suggest, and their suggestions are usually very agreeable, even by your standards.” Ed stuck his tongue out at him. “After that, they’ll probably take care of everything.”

“ _Roy,_ ” Ed growled. “I _told_ you, I’m not going to just sit back passively and let you do all the work—”

“I never said _I’ll_ be doing anything about the matter, Ed.” Roy chuckled. “You’ll probably have as much to do as I do when it comes to these sort of things—nothing. Riza and Breda are perfectly capable. I just follow their lead most of the time.”

“Unbelievable.” Ed shook his head. “Un- _fucking_ -believable. Tell me, Mr. Great Politician—do you do _anything_?”

The smirk Roy gave him while the rim of the bottle rested on his lower lip could probably make other people swoon—other people who weren’t absolutely done with his shit. “Of course. I look very, very pretty and win people over by doing so.”

Ed tried not to laugh at that, he really did. It wasn’t a very successful attempt, though.

“You fucking loser.” Ed pulled Roy down by his collar to kiss him. “I love you.”

“Hmm.” Roy bumped their noses together, smiling. “I love you, too.”

They were quiet for a moment, lost to the world in their own little personal bubble, and Ed wondered if he’d ever get used to the feeling of being able to be so public about his affections instead of having to hide them away behind hotel doors. And then he said, “Did you just call me a shit before?”

“Yes. I was going to go with ‘little shit’ but I decided to refrain.”

“Fuckin’ _asshole._ ”

***

"Ed, Al...this is my sister, Christina." Julia came by with another woman on her arm. Ed recognized her from the picture on the mantle. She was blonde and milky-skinned, with blood-red lips smiling around pearly teeth that were so blindingly white, they could land a plane during a power outage. Standing next to Julia, contrasting starkly against Julia's darker olive skin, Ed would never have guessed they were related if it weren't for the startling green eyes. Ed knew enough about genetics to know that eyes like that were one in a million outside of blood relatives.

"Hi!" They didn't even resemble in tone of voice. Where Julia was soft and delicate, Christina was bright and chiming. "Call me Chrissy. It's so nice to meet you. So, you're Roy's new squeeze?" She emphasized her words by actually giving Ed's hand a squeeze.

"I s’ppose." Ed sipped at his drink. "There is plenty of squeezing going on, so—"

Julia flushed pink. Al hissed “ _Brother!”_ in a scandalized voice. Chrissy burst into laughter.

"Oh, you're definitely just what that stick-in-the-ass Mustang needs." She winked. "And you're Al—his older brother?"

Even Ling, sitting comfortably in his swanky house in the outskirts of the city, a million miles away could probably hear the grinding of Ed’s teeth. He was probably turning to Lan Fan right now, saying “Do you hear that? I think someone who Ed’s not allowed to yell at just called him small.” Lan Fan was probably nodding her head in agreement. Ling, satisfied, would resume his lounging about.

Maybe.

In reality, the only one who could hear the aggressive teeth-grinding was just Ed, but even so, Al knew how precarious his temper was.

“Uh, no.” Al laughed nervously, watching Ed out of the corner of his eye as he shook Chrissy’s hand. “I’m his younger brother, actually.”

“Oh?” Christina pouted. “Sorry, Ed. It’s just you’re so—”

“Adorable?” suggested a new voice. Roy seemed to materialize next to Ed out of nowhere, putting an arm around his shoulders and smiling beatifically. “Filled with youthful passion? Rejuvenating?”

“Sick of your shit?” Ed added.

“I rest my case,” Roy grinned. Chrissy looked amused, and Julia like she was trying hard not to laugh. “That’s why he’s so good at dealing with the stick up my ass, Chrissy. I would happily turn that into a clever innuendo, but not while Julia and Alphonse are present.”

Chrissy rolled her pretty eyes as she said, “Why do you always do that? Why do you just lurk around, eavesdropping on conversations until you have some witty remark to chime in with?”

“I have to maintain my air of mystery, dear,” he replied, gesturing vaguely with his drink.

“You’re about as mysterious as a paper cup, Mustang.” Chrissy’s grin was as deadly as the blood-red color her lips were painted with. “And as transparent as a window pane.”

“And you’re as charming as a week-old tuna sandwich.” Roy grinned as he sipped at his drink. “As always.”

Ed turned to Julia, who was wearing an expression akin to Al’s when Ed had a temper tantrum. She was a vision of pure exasperation. “Does this happen a lot?”

“They’re both pathological flirts,” she shrugged. “So when they clash, it gets—weird. When they first met, they tried to outdo each other in flirting. More like a competition than actually trying to win the other over. When they realized they were evenly matched, they just started—well, doing this. Hitting on each other with insults. I’ve gotten used to it. Kind of. Deep down, they really do care for each other like brother and sister.”

“No, we don’t,” Chrissy said.

“Not even a little bit,” Roy agreed.

Julia gave Ed a look that spoke of years’ worth of dealing with this shit.

“’Hitting on each other with insults’?” Al piped in, looking pensive. “Ed, isn’t that your entire modus operandi when it comes to flirting?”

“No,” Ed snorted. “I insult everybody.”

Every one of them laughed. Ed didn’t see what was so funny.

After years of getting weird looks because of his eyes or his hair or his too-tight leather pants, after years of feeling judged because he was afraid everyone that saw him knew that he got paid to have sex with people like it was written on his forehead, after a lifetime of feeling out of place and awkward among the rest of the world—being able to tell when someone was giving him dirty looks had become a kind of sixth sense to Ed and it rarely ever failed him.

So when he turned around to find whoever it was, he wasn’t surprised to see a stocky, graying man in a nice suit and a thick Rolex glaring daggers at him. He didn’t seem too old despite his thinning hair, couldn’t have been older than sixty, but Ed wasn’t sure he recognized him. He’d seen the man wandering around over the evening, talking and chatting amicably with the other guests, and had assumed he was nothing more than one of the rich uppity country club types he had known would be at the party, and hadn’t bothered to talk to him. Ed couldn’t think of any reason the man was staring at him like he was hoping Ed would get struck by a random burst of lightning, but it also wouldn’t be the first time someone looked at him that way without any immediately understandable reason.

“Who’s the old fart giving me the stink eye?” Ed grumbled as he turned back to the others. “What the hell’s his issue?”

Roy spotted the man before the rest of them and cleared his throat awkwardly. “Ah. That, ah, that would be Greg.”

“Oh.” Chrissy and Julia spotted him too and shifted uncomfortably, exchanging a glance.

“That’s, uh—that’s our dad,” Chrissy said.

“Shit.” Ed flushed to the roots of his hair. “Sorry, I didn’t know; I just—”

Julia waved away his babbling. “It’s fine. Dad can be a bit—well. Difficult. Just—uhm—just don’t mind him. I don’t think he’ll try to approach you or anything, but if he does, just—uh…”

“One of us will come to your rescue,” Chrissy finished for her sister. “Just don’t try to face him head-on by yourself. It’s not gonna end pretty for anyone.”

Ed noticed the sour curl to Roy’s mouth and realized that it had become instinct to lean into him out of comfort without even having to think about it.

***

There were a pair of stools by the kitchen counter that Ed had avoided like the plague every time he came over. They were too tall for anyone (except maybe a giant like Al) to comfortably sit on. Ed didn't trust furniture that made his legs dangle two feet above the ground. To his dismay, they seemed to be the only seats available—and they were near the snacks; so, really, he was left with no choice but to take one.

He wedged the heels of his boots against the rung and tried not to feel too much like a child in a high chair. Roy, Hughes, and Ricky were continuing their conversation about whatever the hell it was, Alphonse had been kidnapped by Chrissy so all her friends could gush about how handsome and lovely and smart he was, and Julia was busy playing host. Ed didn't mind being left to his devices. Big crowds like this had never been his thing, and he was free to enjoy the snacks as much as he wanted.

He seemed to have caught _someone's_ attention though, because a few minutes after sitting down, he felt someone tugging on his pant leg and looked down.

A chubby-cheeked, sandy-haired little girl in pigtails and frilly dress was beaming up at him. She was clutching a pink handbag and her green-blue eyes were sparkling at him.

"Can I sit with you?" she asked, pointing at the tall empty seat next to Ed.

Ed looked at the seat, then back down at her. "I don't know. Can you reach?"

The little girl set her face in determination as she shouldered her handbag and started climbing up using the rung. Ed held the seat down so it wouldn't tip over as she made her way up. She struggled as she tried to pull herself up onto the seat, and Ed took pity and gave her a little boost.

Once she was firmly seated next to him, she beamed up at him again. "Thanks!"

The little girl—seven or eight years old, maybe—set her handbag on the counter next to the food and pulled out some paper and crayons. "I know who you are," she said as she started her drawing. Ed eyed her warily. "Daddy told me all about you. Told me about how Uncle Roy and Auntie Julia aren't married anymore even though they're still best friends and how they both have special friends that they love a lot so they can't be married to each other like Mommy and Daddy are anymore. Daddy told me that you're Uncle Roy's new special friend and that you love Uncle Roy very much."

She had been younger and smaller in the picture Ed had seen on Roy's desk, which is probably why Ed hadn't recognized her at first, but Ed didn't know of any other kids who would call him 'Uncle Roy'.

"You're Elicia. Hughes' kid."

Elicia nodded emphatically, still not looking at him as she focused on her drawing. "What's your name?"

"Ed." He stuffed a finger sandwich into his mouth and offered her one. She took it with her left hand and a small 'thanks' as she continued to draw.

"At first I was mad at you," Elicia admitted unabashedly. "I thought you made Uncle Roy and Auntie Julia break up, and you were why Auntie Julia was leaving." Ed swallowed the sandwich and it tasted a little sour on its way down. "But she's still my Auntie and she's having a baby, and Uncle Roy's really happy, and I like Mr. Ricky—he's really nice, and you seem nice too, so I'm not mad at you anymore."

"Oh." Ed gulped down some cider and cleared his throat. "Well—thanks. That's—That's good to know. I wouldn't want you to be mad at me. So...what are you drawing there?"

"It's a surprise," she said severely, as if warning him not to try to peek. She even shifted the drawing away from him and blocked his view with her arm.

They sat in silence as Elicia drew and Ed stuffed his face with more hors d’oeuvres. When Elicia set her crayon down with the finality of an artist satisfied with their masterpiece, Ed thought he would get to see the completed drawing, but Elicia turned to him and apropos to nothing, exclaimed, “You have really pretty hair!”

Ed swallowed his bite and grinned at her. “Thanks, kid.”

“I hope one day I can grow my hair as long as yours. It’s so shiny! Is it soft?”

Ed pulled his ponytail over his shoulder and leaned towards her. She smoothed her hand down its length with an excited giggle. “It _is_ really soft! But it would look better with pretty hairclips, don’t you think?”

“It probably would.” Ed shrugged a shoulder and ate the rest of the sandwich he was holding. “But I don’t have any.”

Fortunately for Ed, Elicia had come prepared. Out of her magic little handbag, she pulled out a small pile of multi-colored hairclips and berets and spent the better part of the next five minutes clipping them to Ed’s bangs and ponytail. She even clipped a small pink heart-shaped one to the lock of hair sticking up from Ed’s forehead. It sagged under the weight a bit, but stubbornly remained standing.

“What’s goin’ on over here?” said a cheery voice, and Hughes came up from behind Ed and stood by Elicia’s chair. The stool was so tall that she reached his shoulder easily.

“I’m making Ed look pretty, Daddy,” she beamed.

There was a warm, solid presence behind Ed’s shoulder and Ed turned to see Roy standing right behind him, looking at him in bemusement.

“Well, Mustang? How do I look?” Ed crossed his eyes trying to look at the little heart dangling above his head. “Am I pretty?”

Roy touched one of the berets clipped to the end of Ed’s bangs—a sparkly green star—and tried not to laugh as he said, “You’ve never looked more beautiful, my love.”

"What's this over here, beautiful?" Hughes asked, picking up the drawing Elicia had been working on.

"It's a present!" Elicia said, turning around and taking the paper from her dad. "Gotta sign it first, or else it's not finished." She picked up a black crayon and bent over the paper again to scribble her name along the bottom corner. "There! Now it's perfect. Look, Daddy!"

Ed and Roy simultaneously quirked curious eyebrows as Elicia showed Hughes her drawing. "Do you think he'll like it?"

The only time Ed had ever seen a man's eyes start watering so quickly was on the few occasions he'd had to knee someone in the crotch.

"Oh, _Princess!_ " Hughes gushed. "It's _beautiful_! I'm sure your uncle will adore it!"

"Don't be silly, Daddy!" Elicia giggled. "Uncle Roy's got plenty of my drawings already. This one's for Ed."

For some reason, that made Hughes even more emotional.

"Here you go, Ed." Elicia turned to him, holding the drawing out to him. Roy looked over his shoulder at it and—

" _Elicia_." Roy's voice was rarely so openly emotional, but Ed could hardly make fun of him considering the circumstances. "This is—"

" _Amazing_ ," Ed finished for him, feeling his chest tighten as he held that flimsy crayon drawing like it was a precious artifact. "This is...it's beautiful, wow—I love it. And I can keep this?"

Elicia nodded enthusiastically. "Of course! It's a present for you!"

Ed's chest swelled up and his eyes were wide and sparkling. He looked back down at the drawing. It held some similarity to the one of Roy and Hughes that Roy kept framed on his desk—in the same way that the great artists' masterpieces all looked similar, with some distinctive feature or trait that made it _theirs_. Van Gogh and Monet had their colors, Rembrandt had his resplendent faces, and Picasso had his distorted ones. Elicia Hughes blew them all out of the water, if you asked Ed.

The drawing was of two people—one with black hair that straggled in his face, and the other with sunflower-yellow bangs and ponytail and a little lock that stuck up from his forehead. They were holding hands and smiling hugely. Instead of eyes, they had tiny pink hearts and they were surrounded by a mass of other hearts of various sizes. Under them were the names 'Roy + Ed' and '4ever' under that.

It showed significant improvement in skill—their bodies were less stick figure-like and there were certain details on their clothes, particularly Roy's suit, that the drawing of Roy and Hughes did not have. Despite that, there was something about them—something in the devotion in the lines and the love in the colors—that made it undeniable that they had been drawn by the same person.

"Where am I going to put this?" Ed asked himself suddenly, horrified that he didn't have some kind of shrine or place of honor where he could put this like Roy did. Ed didn't have a big, fancy desk like him.

"The fridge?" Hughes suggested, dabbing at his eyes. "That's where we put a lot of Elicia's drawings."

At least Ed would see it numerous times throughout the day. "Do we even have fridge magnets?" he muttered. "I don't think we even have fridge magnets."

He spun around in his seat, looking for Al, and found him across the room, in the parlor, surrounded by fancily-dressed women, making them laugh. "Hey, Al!"

His brother looked up and when their eyes met, Ed called, "Do we have any fridge magnets?"

"No, but we can get some," Al replied. The ladies around him looked a little put-off at being ignored in favor of some lunatic screaming about fridge magnets across the room with a head full of multicolored hair clips and berets. The only one that didn’t seemed bothered was Christina. Al didn't even react at the sight of his brother's hair.

"Just one." Ed thought about it for a second. "Like—a big, pink heart or something. As soon as possible."

Al raised his drink and nodded. "Got it." He turned back to his audience.

Ed straightened himself back in his seat and put the drawing on the table. "In the meantime, I'm making this my lock screen." He pulled his phone out, took a picture and started messing with the settings to make it so that every time he looked at his phone he would see the drawing of him and Roy holding hands.

Elicia couldn't have looked more pleased.

***

The party was dwindling down. People were starting to leave. Julia’s green blouse had a dark stain on the shoulder where her friends kept crying at her as they said their goodbyes. Gracia—a woman every inch as lovely as her daughter, with her same sandy hair and blue-green eyes, and with whom Ed and Al had only had a criminally short few minutes to interact—had taken Elicia home a few hours ago, while Roy had offered to drop Hughes off on his way home.

It was getting close to midnight and the only people remaining were the two of them, Ed, Al, Ricky, and Julia’s father and sister. Al was helping Julia pick up the discarded cups and glasses lying around, chatting quietly with her and making her laugh. Ed was helping clear the remaining food off the plates. So there would be less to clean, of course.

Roy had disappeared into the kitchen for a glass of water, Hughes and Ricky were conversing about something and Ed wasn’t sure where Christina had vanished off to, and as for Julia’s father—

“How _dare_ you speak to me in such a manner, boy?” boomed a deep, gruff voice from the kitchen and everyone in the living room stopped what they were doing to look in that direction. There must have been a reply, much quieter, because the next second the voice was bellowing again, “I will not allow you to speak to me like that, you insolent little—”

“If you would kindly stop _patronizing_ me, sir.” That was Roy’s voice, loud enough to just be heard by everyone, but not yet shouting. “We are both grown men here, so I would appreciate it if you stopped talking to me as if I were a child.”

“Oh boy.” The soft exclamation came from Julia, who was looking pale as a sheet as she shoved the cups she was holding into Al’s hands. Her heels clacked lightly as she scurried into the kitchen. Ed hopped off his seat. Al, Hughes, and Ricky all followed her as well.

“You have ruined my daughter’s life,” the old man was saying, voice low and threatening. He seemed to be trying to corner Roy back against the counter, but Roy couldn’t look any less like prey if he tried, leaning casually against it with a glass of water in his hand, returning the man’s glare coolly.

From the kitchen door that lead out to the back garden, Christina came barging in, fixing the falling strap of her dress and combing her fingers through her disheveled hair. Behind her, Havoc hovered by the door, looking rather disheveled himself but alert, watching the scene with a stony expression. Roy seemed to notice him out of the corner of his eye and shook his head just slightly, warning him to keep away.

“Daddy, come on,” Christina tried, glancing warily at Julia, who looked like she was trembling. “Let me take you home.”

The old man wasn’t listening to her. “You married her, took six years of her life,” Greg stabbed a finger hard into Roy’s chest (Ed moved without realizing, but Al grabbed his arm and held him back), “and then dumped her for some _twink,_ and she went off, got herself knocked up and now she’s running away because of _you!_ You ruined her life, you arrogant _bastard_.”

Roy’s eyes had gone steely. He calmly set his drink down and said icily, “Firstly, please leave Edward out of this—he has nothing to do with it. Second, Julia’s decision to get pregnant and leave was hers and hers alone, I played no part in it. Third, if anyone ruined her life and stole six years of her life it was _you._ ”

The air seemed to freeze around them. It was so tense, Ed didn’t even dare swallow. He stole a glance at Julia. She looked so pale; her knees were visibly shaking now.

The old man spluttered angrily, face beet red. “How dare you insinuate that I had _anything_ to do with you and what you did to my daughter—”

“Julia would never have agreed to marry me,” Roy’s voice was loud now, angry, as if there were six years’ worth of repressed anger behind his words, “without feeling pressured to marry someone promising and successful in yet another failed attempt to win your approval. I should have said something to her then, since it took her much too long to realize that no matter what she did, she would never win your approval because you are nothing but a bigot and an _asshole_.”

The man was clearly at some high level of intoxication, but even so, he moved fast. Ed barely registered the _crack_ of his fist connecting until Roy was on the ground and then his vision blurred, the edges of his world tinted red.

Ed knew he was moving, could feel his limbs thrashing, but no matter how much he moved and growled and spat, he didn’t get any closer to the drunk, ugly bastard. His eyes were locked on him like lasers, and all Ed wanted was to punch and kick the guy till he crumpled, but something was holding him back.

“Brother, calm _down_ ,” Al hissed in his ear and there was a tight squeeze around his middle and Ed realized that what was holding him back were hands. Two around his waist—Al’s—and two around his shoulders, gripping his arms as they thrashed. Ed looked behind him and saw that it was Ricky helping Al.

Hughes had moved as soon as Greg had and was now pulling him away while Christina attempted to calm him down. Havoc had moved as well, rushing to Roy’s side to help pick him up off the ground and check his injury.

Greg was still shouting obscenities at Roy, cursing him out, and it wasn’t until a soft but firm voice exclaimed, “Dad!” that he shut up.

Everyone turned to Julia, who was still pale as a sheet and trembling, but her face was angry now and her shoulders were squared. “I’m going to ask you to leave now, quietly, with Chrissy, before Maes decides to arrest you for assaulting one of my guests.”

The man looked at his daughter with wide, betrayed eyes. “But—Jules—”

“ _Now,_ Dad,” she insisted. “Chrissy, please just take him home. We can talk about this tomorrow.”

Christina nodded and Maes let the old man go. Ed tensed himself, ready to wrench out of Al and Ricky’s grasps if he made a move towards Roy again, but he just grumbled and complained to his younger daughter as she led him out of the kitchen. There was a deep, angry growl coming from Ed’s throat as Greg was led past him. Al and Ricky held him even tighter.

Julia went to the freezer—she was still shaking—and got some ice, wrapped it in a paper towel and went over to Roy’s side, where Havoc was starting to freak out.

“God, she’s gonna kill me. Hawkeye is going to _murder me_ , she’s going to shoot me in the head and then cut me up into pieces, oh, _God_ —”

“Jean,” Roy grumbled as Julia touched the ice to his bruised cheek. “Calm down.”

“He ruined your _face,_ boss! Your _face_! It’s like—the only thing people actually like about you and I let him ruin it! Hawkeye is going to make sure my body is _never found_ —”

“Maes,” Roy sighed. “Could you please…?”

Hughes slung an arm around Havoc’s shoulder and started leading him back out the kitchen door, reaching into his pocket as he said, “You know what’ll make you feel better? I took some pictures of Elicia from tonight, you should see them—they’re _adorable._ ”

With Greg out of the vicinity, Ricky had let go of Ed. So had Al, but he still hovered close in case Ed flipped out again.

“Roy, I’m sorry,” Julia was muttering. She was angling Roy’s head towards her with one hand while she applied the ice with the other. “I’m so so _so_ sorry.”

“I was the one who provoked him,” he replied drily. “I should be apologizing.”

“No, don’t do that,” she snapped at him. “Don’t do that—don’t try to excuse him or defend him. I know he picked the fight with you, he always did. Always—and you never rose to the bait, you never said a word against him before, but he always tried—”

“I should have.” Roy raised his hands to gently pry Julia’s still-trembling ones from his face so he could apply the ice himself. “I should have said something to him long before, and I’m sorry I didn’t. Are you all right? You’re shaking.”

“I’m fine,” she muttered. Her eyes were watering up and her fingers were twitching at her sides. Her breaths seemed to be coming quicker and sharper. “I didn’t want things between us like this before I left. I guess—I’ll just talk to him tomorrow, I suppose—get everything out in the open before I go—”

Roy, looking more and more concerned, ducked his head and whispered something to her that Ed thought sounded like _Can you breathe?_

Julia nodded, but she was still shaking hard. Her shoulders trembled, her hands twitched, and it was a miracle her knees were still holding her up.

Ricky was by her side in a flash, wrapping his arms around her shoulders and leaning down to murmur into her ear. Julia visibly relaxed against him—closing her eyes and leaning her head towards him.

Roy watched them for a moment before stepping around them, still holding the ice to his face, and went over to the hook on the wall where Julia kept her purse. He rummaged inside it before pulling out a folded up brown paper bag and turned around to hand it to Ricky, who took it with a grateful nod and turned back to Julia.

Once Roy was satisfied that Julia was in good hands, he turned back to Ed and Al, who were still hovering by the entryway, and shooed them away with his free hand.

Ed didn't move. Al tugged at his shirt but he didn't budge until Roy was at his side and following them out of the kitchen and into the living room.

"I'm sorry you had to see that," Roy muttered as he tossed himself on a couch. This wasn't the same couch Ed had fallen asleep on during their first date—that one was now in Roy's new condo. This was a different couch, a prop couch borrowed from somewhere for the party. It felt cheap and wooden when Ed sat himself down on it next to Roy. Al took a seat across from them on a chair.

Roy raised an eyebrow at Ed, whose gaze was fixed on Roy's face with a sour look. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

"He punched you," Ed stated, voice low. His hands still hadn't unclenched. "In front of me."

"Yes, I was there."

"I should've ripped his arms off."

Roy sighed and removed the wet slop that had become the paper towel with the ice—melted and dripping everywhere—to toss it into a discarded cup and gave Ed a tired half-smile. "That would probably have been very unpleasant for Julia, don't you think?"

Ed examined the bright red mark blossoming on Roy's jaw and cheek. It would be purple soon. There would be some black spotted around. It would heal yellow and green. It was on his left cheek, Roy's preferred side to sleep on. He wouldn't be able to sleep properly for days with that bruise. "I don't care. He punched you. _In front of me._ "

The mere act of punching Roy—no matter how reasonable the circumstances were, because Ed more than anyone understood that Roy was the kind of person that made people irritated enough to start throwing punches—would have warranted only one limb being ripped off. Someone having the nerve and audacity to do it while Ed _was watching_ certainly deserved two limb-rippings, at minimum.

"Love," Roy smiled, pulling Ed close by the neck to kiss his forehead. "I'm fine. It's not the first time I've been punched in the face. Probably won't be the last."

"I'll kill anyone that tries it before they get the chance," Ed vowed. Roy chuckled against his forehead.

Al was politely examining a scuff on his shoe.

"It took two men much larger than you to restrain you from doing just that." Roy's thumb rubbed his neck. "I fully believe you capable of it. Hell hath no fury like a pissed off Ed Elric, hm?"

Ed didn't answer, choosing instead to continue brooding. Roy offered him a small grin before leaning back again, satisfied that Ed would get over it in his own time.

"Would you like me to get you some more ice, Roy?" Al asked meekly, pointing at the wet, melted slop in the cup.

Roy looked at the slop, then over at the entrance to the kitchen as if assessing his options. "No..." he replied slowly. "No, I'm all right for now. We shouldn't bother them right now. Julia needs her space."

There was a strange look over his face as he said that—like he was trying to place a thought that wasn't where it should be.

"You okay?" Ed muttered.

"Hmm? Oh, yes." Roy's expression cleared up and he chuckled to himself. "I suppose I'm just—unused to this. Old habits and all that. It's the first time I've seen Julia like this and just... _left_ her in someone else's hands. It's not my place anymore, I know that. It just feels like I'm going against my nature."

"Why was she like that?" Sometimes Ed wondered if Al's tendency to care _so much_ ever hurt him, because he sounded like he was wounded as he asked that. "Why was she shaking so hard? I thought she was gonna faint..."

"It was an anxiety attack," Roy murmured. He toyed with a seam on the armrest of the prop couch. It wasn't a common sight, Roy Mustang fidgeting. "Or the beginnings of one. She gets them sometimes. She can usually handle them by herself, but sometimes—mostly when the situation is about her father—she needs some help. I really hope Ricky knows what he's doing in there..."

"Why does her dad make her react like that?" Ed asked, the cloud of rage having mostly dissipated until Roy mentioned him again. "All those things you two were saying, and he punched you—what the hell is up with that?"

"Gregory Hastings is..." Roy furrowed his brow, probably trying to find the most diplomatic way to finish that sentence. When he realized that the two people in his company could care less for his diplomacy—especially Edward—he decided to finish with the truth. "A disgusting waste of space and the greatest thorn in my side for the past six years."

"Gee, don't hold back," Al teased.

"Yeah, you should tell us how you really feel," Ed added.

Roy chuckled, resting his forehead in his hand tiredly as he spoke. "Greg and I never got along. When Julia and I were dating, and then engaged, I tried getting on his good side—as every son-in-law should strive to do. When we were married, Julia explained to me the full extent of her father's contempt for me and I realized that not only was trying to get his approval a lost cause, it was also not worth my energy. I would never receive it and, frankly, I no longer wanted it."

"How come? What's so bad about him?"

Roy looked at Al thoughtfully, lips pressed together as he tried to figure out how to answer him. "Well...this isn't my story to tell, but I'll just give you the main idea. Julia and her father—and her mother as well, I believe, I never met the woman but from what Julia tells me she was every inch as awful as Greg—they have a very complicated relationship. They both showed blatant favoritism towards Chrissy and put an insubstantial amount of pressure on Julia to meet expectations she couldn't possibly reach. They were very harsh with her as a child, and after their mother died, Greg just got worse."

There was a pause, Roy looked over his shoulder to make sure Julia and Ricky were still in the kitchen, and lowered his voice as he continued, "Julia—and Christina as well, of course—are of mixed race. Their maternal grandmother was a Latin immigrant. Christina and their mother could deny it because they don't look mixed, but Julia..."

" _What?"_ Ed hissed. Roy shot him a warning look to keep his voice down. Al looked like he'd been hit in the face with a frying pan.

"Her parents' contempt at having such an obviously mixed child and the pressures they put on her, plus the pure adoration they showed Chrissy when she was born—it took its toll on Julia. She developed an anxiety disorder as a teenager, started going to therapy while she was in college, then stopped going to therapy when her father disapproved of it. It took me _months_ to convince her to start going again after we were married. Since then, however, she's gotten much better at coping with her anxiety—except when her father is involved. I was shocked when she spoke to him in the manner that she did. She's...she's never said a word against him to his face like that. I think it floored me more than the punch had."

Al let out a low breath, frowning down at his knees. "That's...that's awful. That her own parents were so harsh with her simply because—wow, Ed, and you complain that _our_ dad was bad—"

"He couldn't be bad if he wasn't _there_ , Al," Ed shot back. "I'm going to complain about him till the day I _die,_ but—you’re right. I think I'd prefer a dad that wasn't even there to one like this douchecanoe."

"I hope you can both keep this between us," Roy cut in. "I don't think Julia would mind me explaining the situation to the two of you—especially considering the scene you just witnessed—but, it's best to pretend you know nothing sometimes."

"Ed? Al?" Julia's voice came from the kitchen entryway and they both surged to their feet and spun to face her. She looked a lot calmer now, the color back in her cheeks. She looked stable, firm, no longer shaking and strong on her feet. Over her shoulder, Ricky was smiling. Some of her lipstick had gone missing from her mouth and found its way onto his.

Julia beamed when she saw them. "Oh, good. You're still here! I was hoping you hadn't left—I hadn't said goodbye to either of you properly. I would hate it if the last thing you saw of me was…well…” She smiled a little bashfully, and then beckoned them over.

Ed got there first, almost leaving skidmarks on the floor as he rushed to envelop her in a tight hug. He squeezed her so tight her heels came off the floor and she laughed into his shoulder.

"Oh, Ed," she giggled. "You’re gonna break me."

Suddenly, all the crap with her father—the gross injustice of his treatment towards her, the repulsiveness of the man himsef, his violence towards Roy—none of it mattered anymore because Ed was all at once painfully reminded that she was leaving. This really was the last he was going to see of her, and Ed was really terrible with saying goodbye to the people he cared about. He never wanted to let them go.

"I’m going to miss you," he said into her hair. "A lot."

"I’m going to miss you too," she muttered, rubbing his back. "You really are wonderful. I’m very glad Roy brought you into my life."

How many times has an ex-wife said that to the person her husband was having an affair with? Probably not that many.

When he finally decided to let her go, she pat his cheek and said, “Remember, if you ever need someone to complain about Roy to, I am one phone call away. No one but us two fully appreciate just how annoying he is, right?”

There was an offended noise from behind Ed, and he grinned at her. “You’re the only one who really gets my struggles,” he replied, wiping a fake tear from his eye.

Julia’s laugh was bright and chiming. She pulled Ed in and gave him a loving kiss on his cheek, probably leaving a lipstick stain. She winked at him and rubbed his arm before turning to Al, who was hovering nearby, anxiously waiting for his own hug.

Julia looked like a child, tiny against Al’s breadth. They murmured something to each other, secretive little whispers that not even Ed, standing so close, could make out. The two burst out into little giggles like schoolchildren sharing a secret. Ed and Ricky exchanged a confused look.

They separated a moment later with a kiss to Al’s cheek as well, leaving behind a delicate pink mark.

"Well, I guess—" She shifted on her feet, wringing her fingers. "I really am sorry you had to see that mess…my father can be—"

"Don’t worry about it," Ed cut in. "Don’t apologize. Having a shitty dad is just another thing we have in common."

Julia looked at him like he had made the sun come out. “Thank you…” She pulled him in for another hug, pressed another kiss to his cheek, and when she pulled away, her eyes were a little misty. “Well—I don’t want it to seem like I’m kicking you out, but it’s been a long day, and I want to just finish up here and get some rest.”

“Of course.” Al smiled at her. “We’ll get out of your hair. Just—let us know when you’ll come visit. If I’m also in town at the time, we can go shopping again.”

Julia chuckled as she led them to the coat closet. “Definitely. As long as you two promise to keep in touch with me. I might flood your phones with baby pictures, though.”

“Lookin’ forward to it.” Al was just so effortlessly charming, sometimes Ed wondered where he got it from. Then he remembered it was probably from their mother.

"You going home now, Roy?" Ed asked as he pulled on his coat.

Roy shook his head. “Later. I thought I’d stick around and help clean up—for old times’ sake.” Julia smiled fondly at him and Roy smiled back before leaning in and kissing Ed softly on the mouth. “I’ll call you tomorrow, all right?”

"Yeah, yeah." Ed pecked his lips again and said, "Put something on that bruise. Get any uglier and I’ll leave you."

Roy huffed.

"Is he always such a romantic?" Al asked Roy, donning his own coat.

"Always." Roy kissed the top of Ed’s head.

"It was nice meeting you, Ricky!" Al called as Julia and Roy walked them to the door. Ricky, picking up discarded cups and napkins, waved jovially at them from the living room.

"Have a safe trip," Ed called, waving back.

At the door, Al and Ed hugged Julia one last time; Ed may have squeezed her hard enough to bruise, but Julia didn’t complain. Heinkell joined them, shook her hand—it was almost comical how tiny hers looked when engulfed by his—and then they were leaving with final well-wishes and promises to keep in touch.

As they made their way down the driveway to the car, Ed looked over his shoulder. Roy had slipped back inside to finish cleaning up, but Julia leaned against the doorway, watching them, offering a small wave and a smile when she noticed Ed looking. She was still standing there when they got into the car, and she continued standing there until the house was completely out of their sight.

Ed tried not to let it hurt too much. Al yawned, stretching his arms over the back of the seat, fingers just brushing against his shoulder. When Ed looked at him, he was staring out the window so intently, trying so hard to make it look nonchalant that it was anything but. Ed smiled a tired little smile that no one saw, and leaned ever so slightly into his brother’s touch.


End file.
